


Dancing Behind Masks

by CoffeeShopStoryteller (Samunderthelights)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Boys In Love, Charmie, Depression, Don't copy to another site, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, References to Depression, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22892608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samunderthelights/pseuds/CoffeeShopStoryteller
Summary: All Timothée had been wanting to do was make it through the rest of his senior year without any trouble. He was planning to keep his head down, go unnoticed, and keep his secrets to himself.But somehow he finds himself hanging out with a new group of people, and one of the guys in particular. And soon enough he realises that he is not the only one who is keeping secrets.
Relationships: Charmie - Relationship, Elizabeth Chambers/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Elizabeth Chambers/Armie Hammer
Comments: 187
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Update January 2021 : I originally posted this story under my Samunderthelights username. In January it was moved to my CoffeeShopStoryteller pseud, together with the rest of my CMBYN RPF stories.**
> 
> Hi!  
> I wrote this story when I wasn't in a very happy place, and some of the anxiety and all that has kind of made its way into this story. So I have to put up a warning for this story, because there are some things that characters in this story have to deal with, or have had to deal with that can be triggering for some people to read about.  
> Don't worry, there is also enough fluff to make up for it, it's not all bad. But be warned about the darker themes in this story.  
> Enjoy!  
> XX

When Timothée had joined a new school weeks ago, his parents had told him to try and make friends. They had given him all kinds of advice, but most of the things had gone in one ear and out the other. So he had simply smiled at them, and thanked them, because he knew that they had meant well.

  
But he had chosen to ignore them, and he had stuck to himself. Because making friends is easy when you’re a kid, but not so much when you’re eighteen, and joining a new school when there’s only a couple of months left to go of your senior year.  
So he had chosen to keep his head down, hoping to go unnoticed for the rest of the time he has to spent at the place, and so far, his plan seems to have worked. Because no one has seemed to notice him yet.

  
But when he goes over to his locker, he finds a small group of students standing there. He has noticed them before, the cheerleaders with, who he assumes to be, their boyfriends. When he had first seen them, he had assumed they would be like the cheerleaders and their jock boyfriends you see in the movies, and he had been ready to hate them. But as he had seen more of them, he had realised that they were actually alright, and the jocks weren’t jocks at all. But still, they are not the type of people he wants to have to deal with, so he wants to turn around and come back to his locker later, but one of the girls steps up to him, a big smile on her face.

  
“Hi, I’m Liz,” she says, as she sticks out her hand. “Well, Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Liz.”

  
“Hi,” Timothée says, a little uncertain whether he should shake her hand, or if this is a trick.

  
“I won’t bite,” the girl laughs. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

  
“Yeah…,” Timothée says, and he shakes her hand.

  
“What’s your name?” a girl with a strong Irish accent asks, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “What?”

  
“Nothing, it’s just…”

  
“Have I got something on my face?”

  
“No!” Timothée quickly says, “It’s your accent, it’s…”

  
“Ah, you’re one of them, aren’t you? ‘Your accent, it’s so cute, go on, say this, say that!’ For fuck sake.” The girl rolls her eyes, as one of the guys puts an arm around her shoulder, a big smile on his face.

  
“Ignore Saoirse. She can be a bit…”

  
“What?” the girl snaps, raising an eyebrow.

  
“Nothing,” the guy laughs, before looking back at Timothée. “I’m Armie.”

  
“Timothée.”

  
“Nice to meet you, man. We were wondering…”

  
“You’re always on your own,” Elizabeth interrupts. “Do you maybe want to hang out with us?”

  
“Oh no, that’s alright. I ehm…”

  
“She makes it sound like we feel sorry for you,” the guy glued to his phone says, not even looking up. “That’s not it. You seem like a nice kid. I’m Henry, by the way,” he adds, now finally looking up at Timothée. He notices the blush on his face, and a smirk appears on his face. “Let me guess, it’s the accent?” he laughs, only teasing him for what he had just said to Saoirse, but it makes Timothée feel like running away from the group and never coming back. This is exactly why he wanted to stick to himself and go unnoticed until the end of the year.

  
“It’s irresistible?”

  
He had only been trying to compliment Saoirse on her accent, but it has led to him embarrassing himself, and being mocked. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, and in his head he is telling himself to stay away from everyone from now on, no matter what they say to him. Ignore them. Stick to yourself. Do not speak.

  
But Elizabeth hooks her arm in his, and glares at Henry.

  
“Stop teasing him, you stupid…,” she says. “Just ignore him, he is an idiot.”

  
“Oh, please. You knew it was a joke, didn’t you?” Henry asks, but before Timothée can answer, he turns to leave. “Let’s go, I’m starving!”

  
“Do you like burgers?” Armie asks, and Timothée is about to open his mouth, to tell the group that he wants to go home. But when they start discussing what they are going to order, he gets too nervous to interrupt, and by the time he finds a moment to speak, he already finds himself following them to Armie’s car.

* * *

“Go on, get in,” Elizabeth laughs, after they have gotten back to Armie’s car. They have just said goodbye to Saoirse and Henry, and Timothée had been planning on walking home, but Elizabeth isn’t about to let him leave. “We’ll drive you home.”

  
“Honestly, it’s fine. It’s only…”

  
“You’ll catch your death in this rain,” Elizabeth says, and she nudges her head into the direction of the backseat of the car. “I’m not telling you again,” she laughs, and Timothée can’t help but smile. He gets into the car, but when he notices Armie smiling at him in the rear view mirror, he quickly looks away.

  
“Did you recently move here?”

  
“Yeah, for my dad’s work,” Timothée says, staring out of the window.

  
“That’s tough, changing schools, so late in the year. And in your senior year! Do you still get to see your friends?” Elizabeth asks.

  
“Oh, I ehm… not really…”

  
“Can’t you…,” Elizabeth begins, but Armie puts a hand on her leg, and gives it a squeeze. She looks up at him, but he just shakes his head. “That’s a shame, but you’ve got us now,” Elizabeth then says, and Timothée nods, even though they can’t see him. He keeps staring out of the window, and not another word is said, not until Armie drops Elizabeth off at her home, and they say goodbye to her.

  
“Come sit here,” Armie says, patting the seat where Elizabeth had just sat.

  
“It’s fine, I…”

  
“Are you always like this?”

  
“Like what?”

  
“I’m not sure yet,” Armie laughs. “You’re either really shy, or you’re a dickhead who can’t wait to get home so you won’t have to put up with us anymore.”

  
“Oh, I…,” Timothée quickly tries to say, but when he sees the smirk on Armie’s face, in the rear view mirror, he can’t help but smile. “Sorry.”

  
“I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself, don’t worry,” Armie laughs, as he looks over his shoulder. “Come on.”

  
“Fine,” Timothée laughs, and he gets out, to move into the passenger’s seat. “Better?”

  
“Yes, thank you. So…” Armie starts the car, and they drive away, making their way over to Timothée’s house. “Tell me if I need to mind my own business, but… are you just shy, or is this… do you want us to fuck off and mind our own business? Because I can convince them that you’re a real jerk, and that we don’t need someone like you as a friend, but…,” Armie begins, but when there is no reaction, he looks over to Timothée, who is staring down at his hands, an embarrassed look on his face.

“Were you bullied in your old school?”

  
Timothée can feel his heart beating out of his chest, because he was supposed to keep that part of his life to himself. This was supposed to be a fresh start, and yet here he is, failing already. He is too ashamed to face Armie, feeling like too much of a failure. Too afraid to look up and see him laughing at him.

  
But Armie can see his shame, and he sighs.

  
“Don’t worry, man, this place is different. Of course there are bullies, but this isn’t some… we’re not like that. And we’ve got your back now,” he says, and he flashes a reassuring smile, but Timothée is still unable to face him. “Did you think we were the bullies?”

  
“At first, yeah.”

  
“Why?”

  
“You know… Elizabeth and Saoirse, they’re cheerleaders, and you and Henry, you’re…,” Timothée tries to explain, before finally looking at Armie, who is staring at him with a confused look on his face.

  
“We’re what?” Armie laughs.

  
“You know…”

  
“I don’t know,” Armie laughs, but when he sees the blush on Timothée’s face, he understands what he is trying to say. “This isn’t a movie, where everyone sticks to their ‘group’. I don’t know if that’s what happened at your old school, but here we all just kind of…” he shrugs. “I don’t know, we just kind of hang out, and it doesn’t matter if you’re a cheerleader, or you’re in the school choir. If you want to hang out, you just hang out. It’s no big deal.”

  
The car behind them honks their horn, and they both jump up. Armie looks up, and he realises the light has turned green, but he had been too caught up in the conversation to notice. He quickly drives away, but his mind is still on what Timothée has said.

  
“Look, man, if you don’t want to hang out with us, that’s cool. But don’t stay on your own just because you think it’s all clique-y and stuff.”

  
“I guess…”

  
“If you stick to the whole ‘everything is like the movies’ shit, you’ll end up having lunch on your own in the bathroom, and that’s…,” Armie says, but when he glances over to Timothée, he sees the embarrassed look on his face, and he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve done that. That is disgusting, man!”

“I know…”

  
“No more lunch in the bathrooms, okay?” Armie says.

  
“I won’t,” Timothée laughs.

  
“If I catch you in there…”

  
“Then what?” Timothée laughs, and he sees the big grin on Armie’s face, as he looks over to him. “Thank you.”

  
“For what?”

  
“For what you guys did today.”

  
“For fuck sake,” Armie laughs, and he pulls over on the side of the road, and stops the car. “Get out.”

  
“What?”

  
“Get out of my car.”

  
“But…”

  
“You still think that we were feeling sorry for you,” Armie says, and Timothée’s face turns a dark shade of red. “You think that by tomorrow, we’ll be ignoring you again.”

  
“I…,” Timothée begins, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he opens the car door, and he wants to get out.

  
“What are you doing?”

  
“You told me to get out.”

  
“I didn’t mean it, you… for fuck sake,” Armie laughs. “Close the door.”

* * *

Timothée had skipped school the following days, just to avoid the group of friends. He had been feeling uncomfortable and insecure, especially after the conversation he had had with Armie in the car. But his parents had found out, and this morning, his mother had dropped him off at school, threatening to walk him into school next time he skipped a day again.

  
So he is lying in the grass, in the shadow, underneath a tree, waiting for lunch to be over, hoping to still avoid the group of friends. But when he hears someone saying his name, before sitting down next to him, his stomach drops.

  
“Where have you been?” Elizabeth asks. “We’ve missed you!”

  
“I was sick, I…”

  
“Poor thing! Are you alright now?” the cheerleader asks, a worried look on her face.

  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”

  
“We’re all hanging out at Armie’s later. You should come,” she says, but then her face lights up, and Timothée turns to see what is going on. And when he sees Armie coming over to them, he understands.

  
“There you are! We’ve been looking for you,” Armie says, as he lets himself crash down next to him. “Have you been avoiding us?”

  
“No,” Timothée lies, but when Armie raises an eyebrow, he quickly looks away. And when Elizabeth starts telling them a rumour about one of the girls in their year, Timothée closes his eyes, and he allows himself to relax. To accept that maybe they do just want to hang out with him, that this isn’t a trick. That these people aren’t like the ones at his previous school. That maybe, just maybe, they can actually be friends.

* * *

“Thanks, “ Timothée says, when he gets into the car with Armie. He had had detention after school, because he had skipped school, and he didn’t think he would actually get to hang out with the group of friends. But when Timothée had walked out of the building, he had found Armie waiting for him.

  
“You didn’t think you could get rid of us that easy, did you?” Armie laughs.

  
“I had forgotten about detention when I agreed to…”

  
“I didn’t know they gave detention to students who are off sick,” Armie says, trying to keep a straight face, but when he sees the blush on Timothée’s face, he can’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, man, I can give you a ride home if you don’t want to hang out.”

  
“No, I do, I just…”

  
“Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah.”

* * *

“Ah, the lost boy,” Saoirse laughs, when the two young men walk into Armie’s back yard. She, Elizabeth and Henry are already lying by the pool, enjoying their drinks, and when Armie and Timothée join them, Henry hands them both a beer.

  
“What happened to you then?” Henry asks. “You’re not going to infect us with some kind of…”

  
“Oh, piss of, Cavill. Your immunity system should be used to anything by now, what, with all the…,” Saoirse begins, but Henry throws her in the pool to shut her up. He then shrugs, and lies back down, as though nothing has happened.

  
“She’s going to kill you,” Elizabeth laughs, and when her friend climbs out of the pool, her face is so red, she looks like she is about to explode.

  
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouts. “You fucking idiot! These are my…!”

  
“I don’t care,” Henry shrugs, and he closes his eyes. But then he opens them again, and he looks back up at Saoirse, who is still standing there, as furious as anything. “Could you maybe move, you are blocking the sun.”

  
“Argh!”

  
“He’s not worth it,” Elizabeth laughs.

  
“Is this…?”

  
“They’re always like this.” Armie shrugs. “I think it’s all the sexual tension,” he adds, but Timothée can see that he is only trying to wind Saoirse up more.

  
“All the… are you fucking kidding me? I wouldn’t get with him if he was the last man on earth. He is the most…”

“So you keep saying,” Armie says. “And yet…”

  
“He is messing with you, Saoirse,” Elizabeth laughs. “Relax, lie down. Have another drink.”

  
“Let’s get changed,” Armie suggests, and he leads Timothée into the townhouse. “Here, I’m sure these will fit you,” he says, as he opens the wardrobe and grabs a pair of swimming trunks.

“Oh, I don’t…”

  
“Timmy,” Armie says, and Timothée can’t help but laugh when he hears him call him that. “What?”

  
“No one calls me that.”

  
“Is it okay if I do?”

  
“Sure,” Timothée laughs. “Why not?”

  
“Then Timmy it is. Now take these, or you will go in, wearing your sweatpants. Your choice.”

  
“That’s not really a choice, is it? You’re pretty much forcing me to…”

  
“Timmy,” Armie repeats, and Timothée takes the trunks from him, laughing to himself, before looking around him, to find a place where to get changed. “Seriously? What do you think is going to happen? I’ll turn to stone if I see you naked? Come on, man.”

  
“Sorry,” Timothée laughs, and he goes over to the corner of the room to get changed, still more than a little uncomfortable. But he knows that Armie is getting changed too, and that if he makes sure that he gets done before him, he will see nothing.  
But he rushes into getting changed, and when he turns around, Armie is standing there, having only just taken his clothes off. Timothée can feel his face getting red. But he doesn’t realise that it isn’t just his face that is turning bright red, his neck and face are getting just as flushed, and Armie can’t help but laugh at his embarrassment.

  
“You really haven’t hung out much with other guys, have you?”

  
“No…”

  
Armie puts on his trunks, before stepping up to Timothée, and putting an arm around his shoulder, flashing a reassuring a smile.

  
“Let’s go. And relax.”

  
“Sorry.”

  
“Stop saying that. If I hear you say that one more time, I swear I will…”

  
“Sorry…”

  
“For fuck sake,” Armie laughs, but he only pulls Timothée closer, as he leads him out into the back yard, where Saoirse and Henry are still arguing.

  
“… get it into that thick head of yours that…”

  
“What’s going on here?” Armie asks, as he lies down with Elizabeth.

  
“Henry is winding her up again,” Elizabeth explains, before kissing him. She wraps her leg around him, her hand slowly moving down towards the edge of his trunks, and for a moment Timothée wonders what is going to happen. But she simply lets her hand rest there, before looking back up at their friends.

  
“I can’t even deal with your stupidity right now.”

  
“Sure. Just run away.”

  
“Oh, for…,” Saoirse begins, but then she shakes her head. “No, fuck you, Cavill.”

  
Henry flashes a big, arrogant smirk, but Saoirse ignores it, and she takes off her dress, which is still soaking, before getting into the pool.

  
“Do you have a girlfriend back home, Chalamet?”

  
“How do you…”

  
“Oh, I know everything about you, Timothée Hal Chalamet,” Saoirse laughs, wiggling her eyebrows.

  
“She helps out at the office, she has seen your file.”

  
“My…,” Timothée says, a wave of nausea washing over him. “You…”

  
“Don’t worry, I’m not allowed to read them. I only saw your name.”

  
“Oh…”

  
“That must be some secret you’re hiding,” Henry says. “What’s in that file?”

  
“Nothing, I just…”

  
“Fuck off, Henry,” Armie laughs. “It can’t be any worse than what’s in yours.”

  
“Fair enough.”

  
“But let’s get back to my question,” Saoirse says. “Is there a girlfriend back home? I mean, I know this is home now, but you get what I mean.”

  
“No,” Timothée says, hoping that this will be the end of it. But he has no such luck.

  
“That’s alright, we…”

  
“Saoirse is still single, maybe you two can...,” Henry begins to suggest, but when he sees his friend glaring at him, he starts laughing, and he hides his face, in case she grabs one of her shoes from the edge of the pool, and throws it at him.

  
“Really, Cavill? Really? What are we, fourteen?”

  
“Ten bucks says he’s going to get punched in the face by the end of the day,” Armie says, and his girlfriend looks up at him.

“No?”

  
“I give it two hours,” Elizabeth says, and the smile on Armie’s face grows.

  
“It’s a bet.”

  
“God, I hate you two. Why am I even friends with any of yous?”

* * *

“How long have you all been friends?” Timothée asks, after the others have left. He had offered to stick around to clean up. And although Armie had told him, more than once, that he doesn’t have to clean up anything, he is picking up everyone’s empty beer cans and plates.

  
“I met Henry when I was fourteen… fifteen, I think. Liz and Saoirse have been friends since they were kids. Then me and Liz started dating last year, and well, we just kind of all started hanging out together.”

  
“And Henry and Saoirse?”

  
“They love each other, really,” Armie laughs. “The best thing you can do when they’re fighting is just to ignore them.”

  
Armie looks over, and notices Timothée staring out at the water, a distant look on his face. He steps up to him, and he wraps an arm around his shoulder, but it makes him flinch, so he quickly steps away from him again.

  
“Sorry, I…,” Armie begins, but then he sighs. “I am really trying to understand you, man, but… one moment I think you’re warming up to us, the next I feel like you want to run and never come back.”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Stop saying that,” Armie laughs. “You don’t have to apologise for… I don’t know, being?” he says, and Timothée finally looks at him. “What happened at your old school?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“What’s in your file?”

  
“Bad grades,” Timothée lies, but Armie raises an eyebrow, because he knows better. “The bullying, that’s all.”

  
“No, it’s not. I saw you when you thought Saoirse had read your file. You looked like you were about to pass out,” Armie says. “If you did something, then…”

  
“I didn’t. I’m not…”

  
“I’m not saying I think you’re a bad guy,” Armie explains. “But I just don’t understand you. You’re not like…”

  
“No, I’m not. I’m not like your friends,” Timothée snaps. “And this… this isn’t me, okay? I don’t hang out at diners, or at a pool with friends, drinking beers. I don’t…”

  
“You’re doing it again,” Armie says, trying to stay calm, even with the other young man standing in front of him, ranting. “You’re trying to push me away again. You’re trying to run again. Why?”

  
“I’m going home,” Timothée says, but as he turns to leave, Armie grabs his arm, and he pulls him towards him.

  
“I want to be your friend, Timmy. Liz, Henry, Saoirse, they want to be your friends. Whatever happened back at your old school, that shit doesn’t matter to us, okay?”

  
“But I…”

  
“So when you’re ready to accept our friendship, you know where to find us. And if you ever want to talk,” Armie says, as he lets go of his arm. He reaches into Timothée’s pocket, and takes his phone from out of there. “Here’s my number.”

  
“Armie…”

  
“Want me to walk you home?”

  
“I’ll be fine,” Timothée mumbles, as Armie hands him back his phone. He still feels like Armie is getting too close, like the truth about his past is about to come out. A part of him wants to run, so he can keep his secrets to himself, but another part of him wants to be a part of this group of friends, he wants to share his secrets with them, let them know every little thing about him. Start building a new life here, with no secrets at all. But what if they will run once they know the truth?

  
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  
“Yeah...”


	2. Chapter 2

Timothée is just trying to decide whether to have lunch outside on his own, or to be brave enough to sit down at a table with other students, when a pair of hands grab him from behind. He nearly drops his lunch, certain that he is about to be beaten up again. That he has done something wrong, that he has upset the wrong person again.

  
But he hears a girl giggling behind him, and when he turns around, he finds Saoirse standing there, a big smile on her face.

  
“Hiya. Were you looking for us?”

  
“Oh, I…”

  
“We’re over there,” she says, pointing at a table at the other side of the room. “What do think of all this then?” she asks, nudging her head in the direction of a group of students, who are putting up posters to promote the upcoming prom. “Are you going to go?”

  
“I don’t think so.”

  
“No, why not? It’s our last prom!” Saoirse says. “I mean, it’s probably going to be shit, and I’ll want to slap the hell out of everyone halfway through the night, but… you have to go!”

  
“It’s not my thing,” Timothée shrugs, as Saoirse leads him to their table. “I’ve never really been to one anyway, so…”

  
“You’ve never been to prom?”

  
“What?” Elizabeth asks, when she overhears them. “You’ll go to this one, won’t you? You have to!”

  
“They won’t take no for an answer, so you might as well say yes now,” Armie laughs. “Or we’ll still be here tomorrow.”

  
“It’s prom, Armie. This is the biggest…”

  
“Oh, no, don’t start on me. You know how I feel about this. I’m only going because you want me to go,” Armie laughs, as he puts his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. “I’m not complaining, but…”

  
“We’ll go together,” Saoirse suggests. “We can laugh at all the ridiculous dresses, and the…”

“Or you could just ask him out on a date,” Henry interrupts, and within a second, Saoirse’s fist lands on his shoulder. “Ow! What the…”

  
“Oh, grow up, Cavill! I don’t want to go out with him,” Saoirse says, but then she looks at Timothée, an uncomfortable look on her face. “No offence!”

  
“That’s fine.”

  
“You should definitely go together,” Elizabeth agrees. “Unless you have a date, of course.”

  
“I don’t,” Timothée says, but he wonders if he should have lied. Would that have given him an excuse not to have to go to prom with Saoirse? But he feels like he has missed his opportunity, because the girls start discussing a school assignment, and the moment has already passed.

* * *

“Where do you think you’re going?” Armie asks, a few days later, as he and Timothée walk up to Henry’s locker.

“A date,” Henry laughs, a big smirk on his face.

  
“We were supposed to hang out,” Armie says, but his friend just shrugs, before turning and walking off. Armie turns to Timothée, who is ready to be told that he should go home, that they will hang out some other time. But instead, Armie flashes a smile, and he puts an arm around his shoulder.

  
“Come on, let’s go.”

* * *

The two young men are in the town house, Timothée lying on the couch, while Armie is lying on the bed, staring out of the window. They haven’t actually said much since they have gotten here, but Timothée doesn’t mind. Just being here, hanging out with Armie, it feels nice. He has his eyes closed, and he is just listening to the soft tapping of the rain on the roof, but when he hears Armie getting up from of the bed, he looks up.

  
“Do you smoke?” Armie asks, as he opens a drawer. But there is no answer, so he looks over to Timothée, who has an uncomfortable look on his face. “Let me guess, no?”

  
“I’ve tried it, a few years ago.”

  
“Not your thing?”

  
“I guess,” Timothée shrugs. “I didn’t like the way it made me feel.”

  
“That’s alright, it’s not for everyone. Liz hates it,” Armie says, “Do you mind if I smoke?”

  
Timothée shakes his head, and Armie lights up his joint, before lying back down on the bed. He closes his eyes, but Timothée can’t stop staring at him.

  
It has only been a week since they have met, but Timothée has come to realise that Armie has two different sides to him. When he is with his friends, he is relaxed, fun, he is happy-go-lucky, but something about it almost seems like an act. Like it is too perfect, too good to be true. But one on one, he is different. There is a serious side to him, a quiet side. He doesn’t need to act, or to put on a smile all the time. And even though he is so tall his feet are dangling off the side off the bed, and he is looking years older than his eighteen years old, there is something about him right now that makes him look small, fragile. Vulnerable even.

  
But as these thoughts are running through Timothée’s mind, Armie opens his eyes, and he looks up at him.

  
“Timmy?”

  
“Mhm?” Timothée mumbles, as he gets up from off the couch. He stretches his back, and he goes over to the window.  
“It’s still raining.”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée laughs. Armie joins him by the window, and he flashes a small smile, before bringing the joint back up to his lips. “Is this place yours?”

  
“Yeah, my parents never use it. So they’re alright with me using it to hang out, or…,” Armie begins, but when Timothée looks back at the bed, he can’t help but laugh. “Not for that!”

  
“No?”

  
“No,” Armie laughs. “This place is a mess. Liz wouldn’t be caught dead doing it in a place like this.”

  
“It looks all right to me.” Timothée shrugs, but when he notices the grin on Armie’s face, he can feel himself starting to blush. “I didn’t mean… I…”

  
“Let’s go for a swim,” Armie suggests.

  
“But it’s raining.”

“So? Are you scared you might get wet?” Armie laughs. “Come on!”

  
“Fine,” Timothée laughs, but when Armie starts getting out of his clothes, right then and there, he quickly looks away.

  
“You’re getting in like that?” Armie asks, when he is naked, and ready to get into the pool, but Timothée is still standing there, facing the wall, fully-dressed. “Didn’t we… I thought we’d gotten past this last time?”

  
“What about…?”

  
“Oh, for fuck sake, man,” Armie laughs. “I’m going in. I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

  
“But…,” Timothée begins, but Armie has already left the townhouse. Timothée knows that there are swimming trunks in the wardrobe, but he can’t just go and get them, because it would be rude. He could go into the pool in his underwear, but then what would he wear later on when he has to go home?

  
He is still panicking, when he hears Armie calling out for him, and when he looks out of the window, he sees him in the pool, a big grin on his face.

  
“Come on!” Armie laughs, and Timothée can’t help but smile. He shakes his head, before turning from the window, and getting out of his clothes. But getting naked is one step, going out there is another.

  
He takes a deep breath, and as he steps out of the townhouse, he expects students to jump out, laughing at him. He expects them to tell him that it had all been a trick, to humiliate him, to fight him, to kick him and punch him. But there is no one there but Armie.

  
“Are you okay?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée says, but his voice betrays him. Only now does he realise that he had been building himself up for it all to be a trick. His body had been ready for a fight, for disappointment, for hurt.

  
Armie quickly gets out of the pool, and he comes over to him, a worried look on his face.

  
“I thought…,” Timothée tries to explain, but his heart is beating fast, the adrenaline still rushing through his body. And only when Armie wraps his arms around him, and pulls him close, does he feel his body finally letting go of the tension.

  
“It’s okay,” Armie whispers. “You’re safe here.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, about…,” Timothée says, a little while later. “I just get these moments where I panic because I think…”

  
“Don’t worry, man, I get it. You’re not used to this.”

  
“Swimming naked… no,” Timothée laughs, but Armie shakes his head, smiling to himself.

  
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I meant this… hanging out. Having a friend?” Armie asks, a little hesitant.

  
“Yeah…”

  
“The bullying was bad, wasn’t it?” he asks, and Timothée nods. “Do you want to…”

  
“No,” Timothée quickly says, too embarrassed to talk about it. Because he knows that if he tells Armie about it, he will have to explain the whole story. And he can’t do that. Not now. Not ever.

  
“You can’t let what they did to you control you, man. Those guys, they’re not in your life anymore. You will probably never see them again.”

  
“I know.”

  
“And don’t think that because they were like that, that everyone is like that. We’re not,” Armie says, flashing a reassuring smile. “I’m not.”

  
Timothée just nods, because what can he say? That he knows that Armie says this now, but he would most likely change his mind if he knew the whole story? That if he knew why Timothée had to change schools, he wouldn’t want to be his friend? He would run away and be as far away from him as possible, just like everyone else?

  
“I’m not going to hurt you, man,” Armie says. “I promise.”

* * *

It’s already getting dark outside, and the two young men have just gotten out of the pool. They had crashed down onto the bed, still soaking wet, and Armie had lit up another joint, which he is smoking now.

  
But Timothée takes it from him, and Armie raises an eyebrow.

  
“What are you…”

  
“May I?” Timothée asks, and Armie shrugs his shoulders.

  
“Sure, but I thought you didn’t smoke?” he asks, but Timothée ignores him, and closes his eyes. It has been years since he has smoked, and he tries his best not to mess up and end up having a coughing fit, as he had done when he had first tried it years ago.

  
But he is unaware of the fact that Armie is now lying on his side, his head resting on his hand, and he is staring at him.  
Armie reaches out, and he gently touches Timothée’s chest. His fingers only just brush over his skin, and as they move up to his neck, his jaw, Timothée keeps his eyes closed. But not because he is focussing on smoking the joint anymore, or because he is relaxed. But because he is unable to face Armie, because he isn’t sure what is happening.

  
Armie takes the joint from his lips, and only now does Timothée open his eyes, trying to hide the panic, but Armie can see right through him.

  
“Are you okay?” Armie whispers. He stubs out the joint in the ashtray next to the bed, before looking back at Timothée, who is still only staring at him. “Do you want me to stop?”

  
“I don’t know,” Timothée admits, and Armie can’t help but smile.

  
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Armie whispers, and Timothée gives a quick, nervous nod.

  
He keeps staring into Armie’s eyes, trying to make sense of what he is doing, of what is happening, but when he feels Armie’s hand ever so gently caressing his thigh, he has to look away. The gentle, careful touch, mixed with the fact that he is here, naked in a bed with Armie, it is enough to make him hard already, and it makes him feel so embarrassed, that he can’t face Armie anymore.

  
He is ready to get up, run and never come back. He can change schools again. He will come up with an excuse to tell his parents. It doesn’t matter. He can even drop out, get a job. Anything to not have to face Armie anymore.

  
But when Armie wraps a hand around his dick, he gasps for air.

  
“Look at me, Timmy,” Armie whispers, and Timothée looks up at him, scared of what he will see in his eyes. But he sees a genuinely caring look, and he realises that Armie is just as nervous as he is. “Is this okay?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée manages to bring out. “I’m okay.”

  
As Armie is jerking him off, still ever so carefully, his movements gentle and slow, making sure not to hurt him, making sure not to take this too far, Timothée keeps looking at him. Armie seems nervous, but his face his flushed, and he has the shyest smile on his face.

  
But when Timothée comes, only moments later, the smile leaves Armie’s face, and he has a shocked look on his face.

  
“I am so sorry,” Timothée says, and he quickly looks down. “I…”

  
“No, I…,” Armie begins, but then he just starts laughing. Timothée looks up at him, only a moment ago having seen the shock on his face, but he realises that that had only been it, shock, nothing more. He isn’t upset, he isn’t angry. “Are you alright?”

  
“Mhm,” Timothée mumbles, as Armie reaches over to get them some tissues out of the drawer of the bedside table to get cleaned up. “Are you?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“I should ehm… I should probably go home,” Timothée says, not sure what you’re supposed to do after something like that. But he sure knows that he can’t stay here with Armie any longer.

  
“I’ll drive you home.”

  
“No, I’ll walk.”

  
“It’s still raining,” Armie says, but Timothée has already gotten out of bed, and he is starting to get dressed. “Hey, look at me.”

  
“I have to be home at…”

  
“Timmy, look at me!” Armie repeats, and Timothée sighs, and turns back around. “Nothing has changed, alright? This was just… it’s nothing. It’s just a bit of fun.”

  
“I know,” Timothée says, and he fakes a smile. But it’s the most unconvincing smile, and Armie sighs.

  
“You’re not going to avoid me again, are you?”

  
“Of course not.”

  
“If you do, I know where to find you,” Armie laughs, but Timothée can’t laugh with him. Not now. Not after what has just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments on the first chapter! I'm still the awkward turtle I've always been, and I never know how to reply. Sorry for that! But seriously, thank you! Xx


	3. Chapter 3

“I told you I’d find you,” Armie says, as he lies down next to Timothée underneath the tree outside their school. “You’re avoiding me again.”

  
“I’m not.”

“Oh, really?”

  
“Sorry…”

  
“Look, man. What happened, it’s just…”

  
“A bit of fun. You said,” Timothée snaps, and Armie looks at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Have you and Henry…”

  
“Jerked each other off?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“No,” Armie admits. “But guys do it all the time, Timmy. Don’t make a big deal out of this, please.”

  
“And Liz?”

  
“What about Liz?” Armie laughs. “What we did wasn’t… for fuck sake, man. I had a bit of fun with a friend, that’s all. It’s no big deal.”

  
“I guess…”

  
“Relax,” Armie laughs. “Are you coming over to mine later?”

  
“I…”

  
“Don’t worry, the others will be there too. And I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  
“Fine,” Timothée laughs. “It’s not like you’ll give me a choice anyway.”

  
“True.” Armie winks, before getting up to leave again. “See you later, Timmy.”

* * *

“What time are you picking me up on Saturday?” Saoirse asks, but her best friend has a confused look on her face. They had been discussing the upcoming prom, and although Saoirse keeps complaining that it will be awful, she is still planning on going, and apparently Timothée is still going with her. He knows there is no point in saying that he doesn’t want to go, so he will go along, and he will try and make the best of it.

  
“This Saturday?” Elizabeth asks, and Saoirse rolls her eyes.

  
“We were supposed to go dress-shopping.”

  
“Oh, I…”

  
“You forgot?”

  
“Sorry.” Elizabeth shrugs. “We can go next week, can’t we? I mean, I did buy a dress already. Last week I was in town with my mom, and we…”

  
“Fucking hell, Liz!” Saoirse spits out. “We were supposed to do this together. I don’t need you to go with me then, do I?”

  
“I can still go with you…”

  
“Forget it.” Saoirse rolls her eyes, and she rolls over, now facing Timothée. “Seriously, I wonder why I’m friends with her sometimes. She can be such a…”

  
“I’ll go with you if you like,” Timothée suggests, and the teenager’s face lights up.

  
“Really? You’d go dress-shopping with me?”

  
“Sure.”

  
“Do you have any fashion-sense? No offence, but you only wear sweatpants and ugly sweaters, so…”

  
“I’ll manage,” Timothée laughs.

  
“Fine, but if you make me look like a fucking cupcake, I’ll kill you. You know that, right?” Saoirse says, and behind her back, Elizabeth and Armie are trying hard not to laugh. “This is our last prom, and I do not want to look like all those girls in our year, with their tits out, and their… what?”

  
“Nothing.”

* * *

“Where’s Henry?” Timothée asks, when he shows up at Armie’s car a few days later.

  
“Another date. And before you ask, yes, it’s yet another girl,” Armie says, before getting into his car. Timothée gets in too, but knowing that it will be just him and Armie now, makes him feel a little nervous, after what had happened last week. So far, he had managed to avoid being alone with him, and it had made him feel less uncomfortable. But the truth is that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what had happened, and he had even found a part of himself hoping that it would happen again.

  
“Saoirse is excited about prom…”

  
“Mhm.”

  
“You’re not?” Armie asks, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “I hate it too. But Liz loves it, so I don’t really have a choice. But ehm… you and Saoirse?”

  
“Me and Saoirse?”

  
“She’s great.”

  
“I guess,” Timothée shrugs, and Armie glances over to him. “You know it’s not a date, right? Prom. We’re just going as friends.”

  
“I don’t know, man. You two seem to hit it off.”

  
“There is nothing going on between us,” Timothée says, before staring out of the window, unable to face Armie right now. “Trust me.”

  
“We’ll see.”

* * *

Armie and Timothée are on opposite ends of the couch, sharing a joint and listening to the radio. Timothée has his head leaned back onto the back of the couch, and he has his eyes closed, but when he feels Armie’s foot moving into his lap, he looks up.

  
“What are you doing?” he laughs, but by the grin on Armie’s face, he can already tell what Armie is trying to do.

  
“You son of a…,” Timothée spits out, as Armie starts stroking his dick with his foot, through his sweatpants, but he doesn’t move away. He just looks down, and he shakes his head, laughing to himself.

  
Armie scooches over, and Timothée expects him to start jerking him off. But instead, Armie unzips his own jeans, before taking Timothée’s hand, and sliding it into his pants. The touch of Armie’s dick makes Timothée so nervous, that he lets out a chuckle.

  
“Wow,” Armie laughs. “I would be insulted if you were…”

  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  
“Don’t worry, man. I’m only joking,” Armie says, and he glances down. “Is this okay?”

  
Timothée just nods, too nervous to speak. And when Armie slides his hand into his sweatpants, and takes a firm hold of his dick, with much more confidence than last time, Timothée has to close his eyes to take a moment to calm himself down.  
But he doesn’t get a moment, because Armie starts jerking him off, and he knows he can’t stay behind. But he has never done this before, and he is about to apologise to Armie, but when he opens his mouth to speak, he finds himself unable to form any words.

  
So he starts jerking Armie off, and as he watches him lean back his head, closing his eyes, he feels a surge of confidence going through him. He gets a small smile on his face, which only grows bigger, as he watches Armie’s mouth open ever so slightly, and when he watches his face flush, the muscles in his neck tensing, it is enough to send him over the edge.  
Armie watches down at the long, graceful fingers working their magic on his dick. There is such a beauty in them, such a grace. They send an electric surge through his body, and as he looks up, straight into Timothée’s eyes, he finds a new-found confidence there.

  
“Timmy, I…,” he begins, but he looks down, and he watches himself come. There is still an excitement in it, and he can’t help but smile, the smile growing even bigger as he watches Timothée stare down at his hand, but not with shock, or horror, but excitement, a hunger, a passion? Armie quickly tells himself to shake these thoughts, as he leans down, and he grabs a dirty towel from the floor so they can get cleaned up.

  
“I…,” Timothée begins, but his voice breaks, and when Armie looks at him, he finds that all the confidence is gone. The vulnerable, broken young man he had met weeks ago is back, and he is on the verge of tears.

  
“Hey, come here man,” he whispers, as he wraps his arms around him. “It’s alright.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Timothée whispers, but Armie shakes his head.

  
“Don’t say that. I get it, it’s the release, it’s…”

  
“No, it’s not that, it’s…”

  
“Tell me,” Armie says, before letting go of him. There are tears running down Timothée’s face, and he looks so broken, that all Armie wants to do is hold him and protect him, but instead, he puts a hand on his arm, and he gives it a small squeeze. “It’s okay, man.”

* * *

“Want to talk about it?” Armie asks, when they are sitting by the pool a little while later. Timothée is still shivering, even though Armie has put a blanket around him, and he can’t help but worry about him.

  
“I’m sorry, man, if I had known this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have…,” he says, but Timothée shakes his head.

  
“It’s not your fault.”

  
“I want to…,” Armie begins, but then he sighs. “I want to understand what is going on. Is this because of what happened at your old school?”

  
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just tired, I guess.”

  
“Timmy…”

  
Timothée just stares down at his legs, which are dangling in the pool. But he can tell that Armie is staring at him, and when he feels his hand on his back, it breaks something deep down inside of him.

  
“It wasn’t just bullying, was it?” Armie asks, but Timothée can only shake his head. He knows that if he opens his mouth right now, he will start crying again.

  
This was supposed to be a fresh start, but all he wants to do right now is tell Armie everything. For the first time in his life, he feels like he actually has a friend, and he wants to open op to him, tell him how he feels, what he has been through. But the thought of Armie rejecting him, it still scares him too much.

  
“What happened to you? Talk to me, man. You have got to stop letting them get to you, they…,” Armie begins, and Timothée looks up at him. “What?”

  
“This isn’t about them.”

  
“But you’re not going to explain to me what happened in there?”

  
“I can’t.”

  
“I feel like…,” Armie begins, but then he looks out at the water, and Timothée realises that he is nervous. “Are you sure it wasn’t because of what we did? The thought of upsetting you, of hurting you, it’s… I like you, man, and I’ve never done that with anyone before. It was just… it was a big deal to me too, okay?” Armie admits. “I don’t mean… not a big deal like… but I get why you were freaking out.”

  
“Yeah?” Timothée asks, and Armie looks back at him, a shy smile on his face.

  
“Yeah.”

* * *

Timothée and Saoirse have been shopping for a dress for Saoirse from prom for hours, but so far she has hated everything she has tried on. She is now getting changed into a dress Timothée had picked out, and Timothée is on his phone, trying to pass the time.

  
“What do you think?” Saoirse asks, when she steps out of the changing room, a big smile on her face. “Not bad, is it?”

  
“You look…”

  
“Don’t tell me I look like shit. This is the only one I actually like. If I…”

  
“I was going to say ‘beautiful’,” Timothée laughs, and Saoirse’s face turns bright red. “Is this the one then?”

  
“I think so.”

* * *

“You’re not so bad after all.”

  
Timothée and Saoirse are at Starbucks, having a drink before they go home. Timothée wasn’t looking forward to today, and he had only offered to go with Saoirse because he had seen how disappointed she was when Elizabeth had cancelled on her. But he has to admit that he has actually had a really nice time.

  
“Most guys don’t offer to come along when you go shopping,” Saoirse says. “You are a rare creature.”

  
“Thanks? I’ll take it,” Timothée laughs.

  
“Your future girlfriend is one lucky…”

  
“No,” Timothée hears himself say, and Saoirse raises an eyebrow.

  
“No?” she laughs, a confused look on her face. “She’s not lucky? I’d say she is. I’m serious, you should hear Liz, the things she has to do to get Armie to come along when she…”

  
“That’s not what I mean,” Timothée says, “I mean that…”

  
“What?” Saoirse laughs.

  
“This future girlfriend thing…” Timothée looks down at the drink in his hand, and he can already feel the confidence ebbing away. He hadn’t been planning on doing this today, or any other day even. But he had just said too much, and he feels like he is in too deep now to back out. “You know…”

  
“You already have a girlfriend? Why didn’t you say so?” Saoirse laughs. “God, and here I am, dragging you along to prom. She must hate my guts!”

  
Timothée can’t help but laugh, as he looks up, and he sighs.

  
“There is no girlfriend, Saoirse.”

  
“Oh…”

  
“Because I…”

  
“Oh!” Saoirse says, and by the look on her face, Timothée can tell that she finally understands what he is trying to say. “You’re gay.”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“It figures.” Saoirse shrugs, “All the good ones always are.”

  
“Thanks?”

  
“Who else knows? Does Armie know?” Saoirse rambles. “I know you haven’t told Liz, because she would’ve told me. She…”

  
“I haven’t really told anyone.”

  
“Why not? Oh god, I’m not the first person you’ve told, am I?”

  
“No, my family knows,” Timothée says, “I told them years ago.”

  
“Oh, good. I don’t want to have that responsibility. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great that you’re telling me, but to be the first person?” Saoirse says, a horrified look on her face. “So why haven’t you told Armie? You guys have been hanging out every day.”

  
“I don’t know.”

  
“So you are telling me that in all those times, two eighteen year old boys have not once discussed the topic of girls?”

  
“Not really.”

  
“What the hell do you talk about then?” Saoirse laughs. “Oh don’t tell me, you just sit there, smoking weed?” she asks, Timothée’s face turning red. “Seriously, what is wrong with yous?”

* * *

“How was your date then?” Armie asks, when Henry walks into the back yard. “What was this, the fifth…”

“Sixth.”

  
“Sixth date in two weeks,” Armie laughs. “Are they even dates, or…”

  
“A gentlemen never tells,” Henry smirks, as he lies down by the pool. “So I got an e-mail this afternoon, the hotel for Edinburgh is confirmed.”

  
“Really?” Elizabeth asks. “And the flight?”

  
“I’m booking the tickets next week. My dad knows someone…,” Henry starts telling, but Armie sees the confused look on Timothée’s face.

  
“We’re going to Edinburgh for a few days, after graduation. You should come.”

  
“Oh, that’s…”

  
“Henry’s paying,” Armie laughs.

  
“Sure, it’s my dad’s creditcard, and he doesn’t care. So you come along,” Henry shrugs. “Just let me know, because I’ll need to book an extra room.”

  
“You should come, it’ll be fun!” Elizabeth says. “Unless you have…”

  
“He’ll come with us,” Armie says, a confident grin on his face.

  
“But I haven’t…”

  
“It’s a free trip to Europe, Timmy. What have you got to lose?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! At the beginning of this story I put up a little warning that this story contains some things that might be difficult for some people to read about. So just a little extra warning that this is one of the chapters that includes a subject that can be triggering for some.  
> I also want to say a big thank you for your lovely comments, and I'm wishing you all health and happiness in these difficult times, and a big virtual hug! Xx

“What?” Timothée laughs, when he notices Armie staring at him from the corner of his eye.

  
They are on the bed, smoking a joint, and Timothée is trying to come to himself, after they have just gotten each other off again. It has become such a regular thing by now, that the awkwardness has disappeared, and they can mostly laugh it off.  
But when Armie touches his chest, ever so gently, only just brushing his skin with the tip of his fingers, it gives him goosebumps all over.

  
“What are you doing?”

  
“I want to touch you,” Armie whispers, and Timothée can’t help but smile, as he looks down at his fingers, tracing down towards his hipbone. “Timmy, I…”

  
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Timothée blurts out, and his friend looks up at him. “I should have told you when you asked me, but…”

  
“Tell me,” Armie says, his fingers still lingering on Timothée’s hipbone. But Timothée sits up, and he moves away from him.  
Armie takes the joint from him, and he sits up, preparing himself for the worst.

  
“I ehm… the reason why I was bullied, and why they beat me up, was because I ehm…,” Timothée stumbles, his mouth having gone dry.

  
“It’s okay, man, you can tell me.”

  
“I had this friend, and when we were thirteen,” Timothée begins to explain, “I told him that I was gay.”

  
He expects Armie to start shouting at him, to kick him out of the bed, out of the townhouse. To call him dirty, to call him a traitor, a liar. But Armie has a sympathetic look on his face, and he reaches over to stub out the joint, before looking back at him.

  
“What happened?”

  
“He told everyone.”

  
“And they…,” Armie realises. “They bullied you because you’re gay.”

  
“Yeah…”

“I’m so sorry, man,” Armie says. “That is horrible.”

  
“That is not… that is not everything.”

  
“Tell me.”

  
“The bullying went on for years, and they beat me up, they pushed me down the stairs… they made me feel like there was something wrong with me,” Timothée admits. “Like I didn’t deserve to live. They told me that…” He takes a deep breath, before continuing. “They told me that I was a waste of space, and that I was taking up space, that someone who was actually worthy of it…”

  
“Timmy…,” Armie says, and he reaches out, and he grabs Timothée’s hand, squeezing it tight.

  
“I started suffering from depression, and I tried to talk to a therapist, but they just told me to ignore them, and they gave me these stupid tasks to do…”

  
“What happened?” Armie asks, but he can already tell what Timothée is going to say next.

  
“There was this ehm… there was this river behind our school,” Timothée remembers. “and one day, a few months ago, I was leaving school, and these guys, they grabbed me from behind, and they dragged me to the river. They held my head down, and they ehm…”

  
Armie wraps his arms around Timothée, and he pulls him into a hug, trying to fight his tears, as every word hits him like a lightning bolt.

  
“This woman walked by,” Timothée says, a blank stare on his face, when Armie lets go of him. He has zoned out by now, the memories hurting too much, and he isn’t able to face them yet. The only way to get through this, is to distance himself from it, because not only is the pain from the past still too raw, it is also the knowing that he is about to lose Armie and his other friends. “The guys heard her, so they let go of me.”

  
“What happened to them?”

  
“Nothing, I didn’t tell anyone.”

  
“Your parents?”

  
“Just you,” Timothée admits. “I went back into the school, and I tried to… yeah…”

  
“Oh, shit…,” Armie whispers, not knowing what else to say. “What happened, who…”

  
“What happened?” Timothée asks. “I’m here, aren’t I? Someone found me, I was taken to the hospital… I was kicked out of school… and here I am.”

  
Timothée is waiting for a reaction, but there is nothing but silence. He is too scared to look up at Armie though, too scared to see disgust, anger. Disappointment.

  
But when the silence seems to last for hours, he knows he has no choice but to face it. So he looks up at Armie, and he is shocked to find him struggling to fight his tears, as he is staring down at his hands.

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“What?” Armie asks, and he looks up at him, and reaches out to take his hand. But he hesitates for a moment, before deciding against it. “Timmy, you…”

  
“You’re upset with me.”

  
“Upset with you? For fuck sake, man. Yeah, I’m upset. Because of what those guys put you through, because of how they made you feel,” Armie spits out, “Because you tried to kill yourself. Not because you…”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Stop saying that!”

  
Armie jumps off the bed, and he starts pacing up and down the room, but when he notices the hurt look on his friend’s face, he sighs.

  
“I’m not angry, man. I’m just… actually, yeah, I am angry.”

  
“I should have told you before, but I…”

  
“You think that’s why I’m angry?” Armie asks, as he moves back over to the bed. “Because you didn’t tell me sooner?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Timmy, I’m angry because of what happened, not because you didn’t tell me,” Armie sighs. “I get why you didn’t tell me when I first asked you about it. I can imagine it’s not exactly the easiest thing to talk about. Was this why you freaked out when you thought Saoirse had read your file? Is your… is that in there?”

  
“Suicide attempt. You can say it.”

“Yeah…”

  
“It’s in my file, because they contacted my old school to ask them why I was kicked out. We had refused to tell them, because we didn’t think it mattered, but…,” Timothée shrugs, an embarrassed look on his face. “I thought that if…”

  
“What?”

  
“I thought that if you knew I had done that, you would hate me,” Timothée admits. “You would think I’m a coward. Or weak. It’s what they say, isn’t it? When someone does that.”

  
“Are you kidding me?” Armie says. “Maybe that’s what some people say, but that didn’t even cross my mind. I don’t judge you, man. What you did… it happened, and all I can say about it is that I’m just glad you’re still here. And I’m not going to tell the others, because it’s not my place to tell them. But just know that if you ever feel ready to tell them, they won’t judge you either.”

  
“I guess I just…”

  
“Assume the worst of people?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée admits, and when he looks up at Armie, he sees a shy smile on his face.

“I get it, man. You’re used to seeing that side of people. But I told you, didn’t I, we’re not like that.”

  
“No, I guess not…”

* * *

“Have you been crying?” Timothée’s mother asks, when he comes down for breakfast the next morning.

  
“No, I’m fine,” he says, before sitting down at the kitchen table.

  
“Don’t lie to me, honey. What’s wrong? Did something happen at school?”

“No, I just… I know I was supposed to keep quiet about what happened, but…”

  
“You told Armie.”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée admits, and his mother sighs, as she sits down with him. “He is different, mom. He isn’t like those guys at…”

  
“You’ve only known him for a few weeks, honey, he…”

  
“He’s my friend,” Timothée says, but he isn’t sure if he is trying to convince his mother or himself. “He isn’t going to tell people, or use it against me, or… he isn’t like that.”

  
“What did he say when you told him?”

  
“He got upset.”

  
“With you?”

  
“No,” Timothée sighs. “He was upset because of what had happened. He felt sorry for me, mom. He actually cared when I told him.”

  
“And did you tell him why they bullied you?” his mother asks, and he nods. “Is this why you were crying? What did he say to you?”

  
“Nothing! He said all the right things,” Timothée admits. “That’s why… it just seems too good to be true.”

  
“You’re scared he’s going to end up betraying you?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Maybe he really is just a good kid, Tim. Maybe after all you’ve had to put up with, you now finally get to have some good in your life.”

  
“But what if…,” Timothée begins, but then he sighs. “I’m just scared.”

  
“I know, honey. But I know how scared you were, about people finding out about what had happened to you, and the fact that you felt safe enough to open up to him, that tells me that you trust him,” his mother says, as she grabs his hand.

  
“I guess…”

  
“You have got to stop living in fear, Tim.”

  
“I know.”

  
“So you go to Edinburgh with your friends, and you…”

“Dad said yes?” Timothée asks, the biggest smile now on his face. “Really?”

  
“Dad said yes. You’re going to Edinburgh.”

* * *

Timothée is surprised to find Armie waiting for him by his locker, a worried look on his face. For a moment he wonders if something has happened to Elizabeth. But when Armie steps up to him and wraps his arms around him, holding him so tight that it actually hurts, he realises that Armie had been worried about him, not about his girlfriend.

  
“Hey man, are you okay?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée whispers, as he clings onto him. He had still been so scared that Armie had spent the night thinking about their conversation, that he had come to the conclusion that Timothée comes with too much baggage, that he isn’t worth it. That he should cut ties with him and be done with it. So to find him here, it means the absolute world to him.

  
“I was worried you were going to avoid me again,” Armie admits, as he lets go of him. “You’re not regretting it, are you? Telling me.”

  
“No, of course not,” Timothée says, and he looks around him, to see if anyone can hear them. But it’s still early, and the only students in the hallway, are busy messing up the prom posters. “I ehm… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. That I’m gay.”

  
“Why?” Armie laughs. “You think it matters to me? I told you, Timmy, I’m not…”

“No,” Timothée quickly says. “I should have told you, because we… you know… because of what we did…”

  
“Oh, I see,” Armie laughs. “Don’t worry about that, man. What we’re doing, that isn’t about… it has nothing to do with that. So I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, bi, whatever else there is.” He shrugs, but Timothée realises he is getting the happy-go-lucky side of him right now. Not the one-on-one side he is used to seeing. And something about the smile on his face seems off, but he doesn’t get a chance to confront him about it, because Elizabeth and Saoirse walk into the hallway, happily chatting away, until they notice the two guys.

  
“Did you hear?” Saoirse asks. “Henry has found this club in Edinburgh, it’s…”

  
“What did your parents say?” Elizabeth asks, not giving her friend a chance to finish her sentence. “Henry can’t wait much longer to buy our tickets, so…”

  
“They said yes.”

  
“Awesome!” Elizabeth smiles. “This trip is going to be amazing!”

  
“So he found this club…”

* * *

“May I ask you something?” Armie asks, as he takes the joint from Timothée. “I mean, I get if you don’t want to share it, but…”

  
“What?” Timothée asks, and he can’t help but laugh at the nervous look on Armie’s face. Because here they are, in bed together, and only minutes before, they had been getting each other off again. So to see that Armie is nervous now, it feels a little absurd.

  
“Have you ever done it before?”

  
“Done what? This?”

  
“No,” Armie laughs. “I mean, have you ever had sex with a guy before?”

  
“Oh… no,” Timothée admits, his face turning a dark shade of red. “I ehm… no.”

  
“But you’ve done stuff, right?”

  
“Stuff?”

  
“You know…”

  
“What?” Timothée laughs, because he isn’t the only one who has turned red. Armie, who has always been able to openly talk about sex, now seems uncomfortable and nervous. But the fact that they are both so nervous, it actually makes Timothée feel better. Safer.

  
“Stuff like this,” Armie says, but Timothée shakes his head. “Wait, you have never…?”

  
“Have you?”

“Jerked a guy off?” Armie laughs. “No.”

  
“Neither have I.” Timothée shrugs, and he rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

  
“But you have kissed guys, right?”

  
“Have you?”

  
“I can’t say I have,” Armie says. Timothée looks at him, and when he sees the shy smile on his face, his heart skips a beat. But he quickly tells himself to ignore it. That it had just been excitement, because of this conversation. It had been a reaction to being uncomfortable. It had been nothing. Nothing at all.

  
“Have you ever…”

  
“What?” Armie laughs, as he looks at him, the smile still on his face.

  
“Have you ever wanted to?”

  
“Why? Are you offering me a chance to?” Armie asks, raising an eyebrow. “Huh?” he laughs, but when he sees the uncomfortable look on Timothée’s face, he playfully nudges him in the ribs with his elbow. “I’m just kidding, man.”

  
“Sorry, I…,” Timothée begins, but the door of the townhouse opens, and they both jump up.

  
“Wow, I can see why I wasn’t invited,” Henry laughs. “Is this what you guys do when I’m not here?”

  
“We went for a swim,” Armie tries to explain, but Henry raises an eyebrow, and he shakes his head.

  
“Yeah, that doesn’t explain why you two are in bed together, naked. I didn’t realise you were…”

  
“We were smoking a joint, after we had a swim,” Armie explains. “That’s all.”

  
“Right…”

  
Timothée can tell that Henry doesn’t believe a word of it, but he doesn’t feel like explaining himself. Instead, he gets up from off the bed, and he gets dressed, trying to act as casual as possible. But the conversation he and Armie had had is still on his mind, and the rest of the afternoon is one big blur to him. Because what if he had said yes, when Armie had asked him if he was offering him a chance to kiss a guy? Would he have kissed him?

  
They hadn’t discussed it, but Timothée hasn’t forgotten about what had happened the afternoon he had told Armie about his past. Armie had told him he had wanted to touch him, and for a moment, things had started to feel like more than just a bit of fun. For just a moment, it had felt like Armie had shown him a true part of himself. But since then, it had been hidden away again, until just now. And it makes Timothée wonder who the real Armie is.


	5. Chapter 5

“May I?” Armie asks, as he takes a photo album from Timothée’s bookcase.

  
“Sure.”

  
“Did you make this?”

  
“My mom did,” Timothée says, a shy smile on his face. “She’s been making them since I was born. There are loads of them downstairs. This one is from a couple of years ago.”

  
Armie opens it, the smile on his face growing bigger as he flips through the pages.

  
“How old were you in these?”

  
“Thirteen, I think.”

  
“Who’s this guy?” Armie asks, as he holds up the album, and he points at one of the photos. “He’s in a lot of them.”

  
“He was my best friend.”

  
“Was he… was he the one you came out to?” Armie asks, looking back at the album. “Did he…”

  
“Yeah, that’s him.”

  
“Why have you kept these?”

  
“I don’t know.” Timothée shrugs. “I never look at them, so I guess I haven’t really thought about getting rid of the ones he’s in.”

  
Armie looks up at him, and he looks him over, before looking back at the album in his hands.

  
“What?” Timothée laughs.

  
“No offence, but I’ve only ever seen you wear the most boring sweatpants, sweatshirts, t-shirts… you look like…”

  
“Shit?”

  
“Not what I was going to say,” Armie laughs. “Like you just get out of bed and throw something on, like you don’t care at all.”

  
“I don’t.”

  
“Bullshit,” Armie laughs. “The stuff you were wearing in these… you used to care about all that, didn’t you?”

  
“I guess…”

  
“What happened?”

  
“You know what happened.”

  
Armie sighs, and as he traces one of the photos with the tips of his fingers, there is a troubled look on his face.

  
“What?”

  
“You changed.”

  
“Of course I changed,” Timothée scoffs, as he sits down at his desk. “When they were told I was gay, they… all that stuff, it became another reason for them to call me names. If I looked any different from them, it was because I was gay, if I said the wrong thing, it was a gay thing, if I set a foot wrong… you get my point. I felt like I was being watched, and every move I made…”

  
“You were being judged,” Armie realises, and his friend nods. “Did it work, keeping quiet, changing the way you looked, trying to go unnoticed?”

  
“A little.”

  
“Is that why you were trying to keep to yourself, when you moved out here?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée admits. “But it didn’t work, did it?”

  
“No, it didn’t,” Armie laughs. “I told you, man, this place is different.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Being gay, it’s not big deal around here, and you’ve seen the kind of stuff people wear,” Armie says. “You can get away with anything. You could probably show up in a dress, and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“A dress?”

  
“Bad example, but you get what I mean.”

  
“I do,” Timothée says, and Armie closes the photo album, and places it on the bedside table. “But I guess I just… I was different back then, I didn’t care about what people thought, or… now I constantly feel like if I make one wrong move, I will…”

  
“Lose everything again?” Armie suggests, “I get it, man. I do. But you…”

  
There is a knock on the door, and they both look up.

  
“Tim, I’m home from work! Can I make you something to eat?” Timothée’s mother asks. “Are you in there?”

  
Timothée gets up, and he opens the door. His mother is about to open her mouth to speak, but when she sees Armie sitting on the bed, she gets a big smile on her face.

  
“Oh, you must be Armie! Tim has told me all about you!”

  
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Chalamet,” Armie says, as he goes up to her to shake her hand. But instead, she gives him a big hug, and Timothée can’t help but laugh when he sees the look of shock on his friend’s face.

  
“Oh, how handsome are you! Isn’t he handsome, Tim?” his mother asks, as she lets go of Armie.

  
“I guess…”

  
Armie raises an eyebrow, but when he sees the blush on Timothée’s face, he just puts an arm around his shoulder, and he pulls him into a hug.

  
“You must both be starving. How about a sandwich, huh?”

  
“Sure,” Timothée mumbles, and his mother turns around and leaves. But Armie keeps him back, and it isn’t until Timothée’s mother is downstairs, that he lets go of him.

  
“Your mom seems to like me,” he whispers, a mischievous grin on his face.

  
“Shut up.”

  
“You’re blushing, Timmy.”

  
“I’m not,” Timothée whispers, but he knows he is, and when he playfully pushes Armie away, Armie steps back up to him, their bodies now so close, that he can feel his warm breath on his skin. “What are you…,” he whispers, but there is a loud noise downstairs, and they both jump up.

  
“Your mom is waiting for us, we should probably...”

  
“Yeah.”

* * *

“Have you ever been to a music festival?” Saoirse asks, as she offers Timothée her bag of candy. “Here, take one. These are so good!”

  
“No, thanks, I’m…”

  
“Here, give me one!” Henry says, and he grabs the bag out of Saoirse’s hands.

“For fuck sake, Cavill! You are such a pig!”

  
“Don’t kill each other just yet,” Elizabeth says, “We’re not even halfway there.”

  
“I’m not promising anything,” Saoirse says, as she grabs the candy back from Henry, glaring at him. “So, Timothée, is this your first festival?”

  
“It is,” Timothée admits. “I’m not really…”

“A music fan? Don’t say that. Everyone loves music.”

  
“I am, I just… I kind of just listen to it at home, I don’t really…”

  
“Like to get covered in beer, mud… piss…”

  
“Piss?” Timothée asks, a horrified look on his face, and his friends can’t help but laugh.

  
“It happens.” Saoirse shrugs. “You’ve just got to ignore it. Besides, you’ll probably be too drunk to notice anyway.”

  
“How are we going to get drinks out there? We’re too…”

  
“Don’t you worry about that.” Henry grins. “I have my ways.”

* * *

“They’re disgusting, aren’t they?” Saoirse slurs, as she wraps an arm around Timothée’s waist. They are getting back to their tents, but Armie and Elizabeth are walking in front of them, their hands all over each other, and they keep leaning over to each other to kiss, nearly stumbling off the path.

  
“They’re in love.”

  
“It makes me sick.”

  
“Are you jealous?” Timothée laughs, but Saoirse just pretends to throw up. “Don’t worry, it’s only… where are we?”

  
“I don’t know,” Saoirse laughs. “I think we lost our tent. Liz!”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Where the fuck is our tent?”

  
“Armie?” Elizabeth asks, but he just shrugs. “Where are we going?”

  
“I don’t know.” Armie shrugs. “I think it was over there…”

  
“Oh, for fuck sake!”

* * *

Timothée and Armie stumble into their tent, after dropping the girls off at their tent after they had finally managed to find it. The plan had been for the girls to share a tent, and the guys to share the other, but Henry had met a couple of girls earlier on in the day, and he had abandoned his friends the minute the girls had invited him over to their tent for the night.

  
“Son of a bitch,” Armie spits out. “He always does this.”

  
“They were cute.” Timothée shrugs, and Armie can’t help but smile. “What?”

  
“They were, but he was supposed to be here, with us.”

  
“Whatever,” Timothée mumbles. He starts to take his clothes off, too tired to care about Henry being here or not. And when he is wearing nothing but his underwear, he lies down on top of his sleeping bag, before turning on his side, to watch Armie.  
Armie notices Timothée watching him, but he ignores it, and he gets out of his clothes, before turning the flashlight on his phone off, and lying down with him.

  
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, and even in the dark, he can see the blush on Timothée’s face. “I ehm…”

  
“What?”

  
“I’m a little drunk,” Armie laughs, “and I shouldn’t be saying this, but…”

  
“I’m drunk too,” Timothée laughs, but something in Armie’s face changes. He becomes more serious, and Timothée can tell that he is showing him his other side again. His real self.

  
“Fuck, I want to touch you so badly, Timmy,” Armie whispers. “I want to…”

  
A sound can be heard outside, and they both look up. But it’s just people walking by, and when they look back at each other, they can’t help but laugh.

  
“I want you, man,” Armie admits. “Is it okay if I… can I touch you?”

  
Timothée can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest, and he knows that he should say no. Because they are both drunk, and Armie has a girlfriend. A girlfriend who just so happens to also be his friend. And she is in a tent only a few feet away.  
But he realises he is nodding, and when Armie starts kissing his chest, he closes his eyes, unable to face what is happening.

  
“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Armie whispers, before kissing Timothée’s neck with so much passion, with so much heat, that Timothée can feel himself getting hard already.

  
He wants to stop Armie, before things go too far, before they cross a line, and it ruins their friendship. But Armie’s hand is already reaching down, and Timothée has to grab it, to stop him.

  
“I’m sorry, did I…?”

  
“No, I just…,” Timothée whispers, but when he sees the nervous look on Armie’s face, he leans down, and he kisses Armie’s neck.

  
He has never kissed him before, but something about it feels natural, like this is what he has been doing all his life.

  
“Touch me,” Armie whispers, his voice shaking.

  
Timothée places his hand on the side of his friend’s face, trying to find a reassurance in his eyes, but he can see that he is nervous.

  
“Please,” Armie adds, and Timothée can’t help but smile. Armie had always been the confident one out of the two of them, he had been the one to reassure Timothée, to tell him that things were okay. But Timothée is feeling confident now, perhaps because of how much he has been drinking, and he gives a reassuring smile, before kissing his friend’s neck again.

  
He kisses him all over, from his neck to his chest, all the way up and down his arms, back to his neck again. But he can tell that Armie wants more, and he finds himself brave enough to kiss him all the way down to the inside of his thigh.

  
He then looks up, looking for reassurance again, and this time he is met with a smile. Armie is blushing, but he seems to be sure of what he wants now. And this is it.

  
Armie watches as Timothée licks his lips, before wrapping his mouth around his dick, and just the sight of it, it is almost enough to send him over the edge. Sure, he is used to seeing Elizabeth do this to him, and there had been other girls before her, but seeing Timothée do this to him? It is too much to handle. So he closes his eyes, and he brings his fist up to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to try and keep quiet.

  
But when he feels like he is about to come, he opens his eyes, and he reaches out to his friend. He brushes his fingers through his hair, a shy smile on his face.

  
“Hey, look at me, man,” he whispers, and when Timothée brings his eyes up to his, it is enough to make him come. “Fuck! I’m so sorry!” he can hear himself say, but he doesn’t sound like himself, and he quickly looks away, trying to hide his shock.  
Moments later, Timothée lies down next to him again, but there is an uncomfortable silence between them, because what do you say to each other after that?

  
“Timmy, I…,” Armie tries, but when he looks into his friend’s eyes, he can see that he is scared, that he has crawled back into his shell again. “Nothing has changed, okay? This is just… it’s nothing, it’s…”

  
“I know.”

  
“We probably shouldn’t be drinking anymore,” Armie laughs, trying to make light of the situation, but when he reaches out to take Timothée’s hand, he pulls away. “Hey, look at me, man. Nothing has changed.”

* * *

“For fuck sake, Hammer,” Saoirse spits out, after Armie has ignored her again. “What is wrong with you? Did you two get into a fight last night or something?”

“No.”  
“You haven’t said a word to each other all day,” Elizabeth says, as she puts her arms around her boyfriend’s waist. “What happened?”

  
“Nothing,” Armie shrugs, but when he looks over to Timothée, he can tell that his friend is feeling uncomfortable around him, that all he wants to do is run. “I’m just a little hungover, that’s all.”

  
“And what’s your excuse then?”

  
“I’m just tired.” Timothée shrugs, staring down at his feet. But he can tell that Saoirse doesn’t believe him, because she hits him in the arm, before shoving him in the direction of the bar.

  
“You’re a horrible liar, Chalamet. Now come on, let’s go. The next round is on you.”

* * *

“Timmy, please, I don’t want this to have messed up what we have,” Armie whispers, looking around him to make sure the girls are still in line, waiting for the toilet. “I need you, man.”

  
“What we did, that’s not… I know I haven’t had many friends, so I’m not sure what it is that you’re supposed to do when you hang out, but that…,” Timothée whispers. “That is not what you do.”

  
“Look, it happened, and we… no, I’m not going to try and speak for you, but I like what we have, man,” Armie admits. “I am glad that I get to do that with you. It makes me feel like we’re… fuck… I don’t know, man. I just don’t want it to fuck things up.”

  
“It hasn’t messed anything up,” Timothée sighs. “I’m just scared that it’s turning into something else.”

  
“Like what?”

  
“You know what,” Timothée whispers. “You have a girlfriend, Armie. If you want to…” He looks back, to make sure the girls are still out of ear-shot, before turning back to face Armie. “You keep saying these things, and it makes me feel like you want it be more than just a bit of fun.”

  
“No!” Armie says, his face turning red. “I’m sorry if I made you think that I… oh shit, no.”

  
“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Timothée says. “I can’t risk losing you. All of you.”

  
“I know,” Armie says, before flashing a small, reassuring smile. “But I told you, man, nothing has changed. It’s just… what it is. And if you want us to stop doing that stuff, we’ll stop.”

  
“Stop doing what stuff?” Henry asks, as he appears next to them. “What have I missed?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“Drugs?”

  
“No,” Armie laughs. “Where did you disappear off to then?”

  
“You know the girls I left with? I left their tent this morning, and as I was making my way over to our tent, I met this other girl…”


	6. Chapter 6

“What about this one?” Armie asks, as he pulls a simple black suit out of the rack. “It’s… nice.”

  
“I guess.”

  
Prom is tomorrow, and Timothée had been planning on borrowing one of his father’s suits, but when he had told Armie this, Armie had dragged him along to buy him a suit. Timothée had objected, but Armie hadn’t taken no for an answer.

  
“This?” Armie asks, suggesting a bright red suit.

  
“Absolutely not.”

  
“This?”

  
“Lilac?” Timothée laughs, but Armie just shrugs.

  
“Liz picked out my suit, because it had to match her dress. So I have no idea how to do this,” he admits. “You like this kind of stuff, don’t you? I saw you cared about what you wore when you were younger, so…”

  
“Not anymore.”

  
“Look around you, Timmy,” Armie sighs. “You get to pick out a suit. You wear what you like. Not what will make you blend into the crowd.”

  
“I…”

  
“If you want to wear a lilac suit, go for it, or get the…,” Armie says, pointing at a velvet green suit. “Who cares? If you like it, wear it.”

  
“It has to match Saoirse’s dress…”

  
“So? You picked out her dress, didn’t you? So you can find a matching suit,” Armie laughs. “I’m not letting you leave this place before you get one you like.”

  
“I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

  
“But you didn’t. So go on, or I will call Saoirse and bring her out here.”

* * *

“How are you feeling?”

  
“Nervous,” Timothée admits, as he looks into the mirror one last time, before closing his wardrobe door. “Are you sure…”

  
“For fuck sake, man,” Armie laughs. “You look great.”

  
“It’s not too…?”  
“Timmy,” Armie says, as he steps up to him, a mischievous on his face. “I am struggling to keep my hands to myself right now, because all I want to do is rip it off you, and get into that bed with you,” he whispers, his lips so close to Timothée’s ear, that Timothée can feel his warm breath on his neck. “So yeah, I’d say you look pretty great.”

  
“Oh…”

  
“Have I said too much?” Armie whispers. “I’m sorry, man, I…”

  
“We should go, or we’ll be late.”

  
“Yeah.”

* * *

“God, what is wrong with all these people?” Saoirse sighs, as she walks back up to Timothée and hands him his drink. “These things used to be fun, and people used to dance, people used to sneak booze in… now everyone is just standing around… for fuck sake.”

  
“Henry is enjoying himself.”

  
“As long as he finds a girl with a heartbeat, he always enjoys himself.” Saoirse rolls her eyes, as they look over to their friend, who is trying to chat up a girl from their year.

  
“You and Henry…”

  
“Me and Henry?” Saoirse laughs. “There is no me and Henry. I know Armie says there is sexual tension between us, but… just the thought of having sex with him, knowing how many girls he’s been with… no thank you.”

  
“So nothing has ever happened between the two of you?”

  
“Never. He has never even hit on me. Me and him, we’re like… he’s like the annoying, disgusting brother you never wanted to have, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I like him, but not like that,” Saoirse explains, but then she looks back at Timothée.

“What about you then? Has anyone caught your eye yet?”

  
“Not really.”

  
“No? Not even a certain mister Hammer?”

  
“What? No,” Timothée laughs, but he can feel himself starting to blush. “I’m not… he’s not…”

  
“God, he’s good-looking, isn’t he? I think half the school has had a crush on him.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Have you seen the guy?” Saoirse laughs. “I swear to god, you should’ve seen the looks people gave Liz when she started dating him. They hated her.”

  
“Did he have a girlfriend before her?”

  
“I know of two, but I don’t think it was anything serious. He’s always been hanging out with Henry, and you know what he’s like, so… but I think him and Liz are pretty serious.”

  
Timothée looks over to Elizabeth and Armie, who are one of only a handful of couples who are dancing, but they don’t even seem to realise, because they are too caught up in each other. And when Timothée sees how focussed Armie is on his girlfriend, he can’t help but smile, because it gives him confidence that he hasn’t ruined anything. He hasn’t hurt anyone.

  
“You’re not jealous, are you?”

  
“No, I was just thinking how great they look together.”

  
“Ugh, don’t even get me started! It’s sickening.”

* * *

The group of friends are at the park, the girls sitting on the swings, Henry lying in the grass, while Timothée and Armie are lying in the little play house at the top of the slide, staring up at the stars.

  
“What if this is the last time we’ll ever get to do this?” Elizabeth asks. “You know, after graduation, we’re all off to different places… what if…”

  
“We’re still going to be friends,” Saoirse quickly says, but her best friend sighs. “We can still come back here and get together.”

  
“But everything is going to change.”

  
“No, I agree with Saoirse,” Henry says.

  
“That’s a first.”

  
“Piss off,” Henry laughs. “But you are right, we can still meet up when we’re all here.”

  
“That means you too,” Armie whispers, when he notices the uncomfortable look on Timothée’s face. “You’re stuck with us now.”

  
“I hope so,” Timothée whispers back, making sure their friends on the ground won’t hear him.

  
Armie brushes his hand against his leg, before grabbing his hand, and squeezing it tight. Timothée can feel that he is nervous, and when he sees the blush on his face, he can’t help but smile.

“…, right, Armie?”

  
“Huh, what?”

  
“Are you even listening?” Elizabeth asks. “Never mind!”

* * *

“It’s nice to finally meet you, mister Hammer,” Timothée says, as the man shakes his hand, a stern look on his face. “I’m Timothée, I’m…”

  
“Armie’s friend, yes, I know.”

  
“Thank you, for allowing me to spend the…”

  
“It’s his place.” Armie’s father shrugs. “He’s in there, so…”

  
“Thank you,” Timothée says, faking a smile, before leaving the house, and quickly making his way through the backyard, over to the townhouse.

  
He knocks on the door, even though Armie is expecting him. But when there is no answer, he carefully opens the door.  
Armie is on the couch, with his headphones on, and he has his eyes closed. Timothée can’t help but smile, because Armie looks so relaxed, so peaceful. For a moment he considers leaving him like that, but he quietly goes over to the couch, and kneels down beside him, before laying a hand on his chest.

  
“Hey, man,” Armie says, the biggest smile on his face. “I was just… wait, how long have you been here? You didn’t hear…”

  
“You sing?”

  
“Oh, shit…”

  
“I didn’t hear anything,” Timothée laughs. “Your dad just let me in.”

  
“You met my dad?”

  
“Mhm.”

  
Timothée goes over to the window, and as he stretches his back, he hears Armie coming up behind him.

  
“Does your back hurt?”

  
“It’s my neck, but…”

  
“I give a pretty good massage,” Armie whispers, before kissing his neck, and Timothée can’t help but laugh, but he keep his eyes focussed on the pool, trying not to give in to him.

  
“I’ll be fine,” he laughs, as Armie turns him around. “Stop it!”

  
“Why?”

“Because your dad is right there,” Timothée laughs. “What if he…”

  
“You think he is in there, with his binoculars, staring into our window?” Armie asks, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I somehow don’t think…”

  
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Timothée laughs, before pushing him away.

  
“Fine, how about a smoke then?”

* * *

Timothée and Armie are on the bed, their hands all over each other, and Armie is just getting on top of Timothée, when the door to the townhouse opens.

“Hi boys, how about… what the…!”

  
“Dad!”

  
Armie quickly gets up from off the bed, and he grabs a t-shirt from off the floor to cover himself up with, but his father has already seen enough, and he turns around and leaves.

  
“I’m so sorry,” Timothée says, but Armie shakes his head, and he sits down on the side of the bed. Timothée sits down with him, and he grabs his hand, not knowing what else to do. Not knowing what to say.

  
“What am I going to tell him?”

  
“The truth.”

  
“And that is?” Armie asks, and when he looks up, Timothée can see the fear in his eyes.

  
“That this meant nothing,” Timothée says. “This was a one-off.”

  
“But we…”

  
“Were just trying it out. It meant nothing, Armie. That is what you tell him.”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“Do you want me to go with you?”

  
“Will you?” Armie asks, and Timothée nods, before getting up. He picks up his clothes from off the floor, but as he is putting them back on, a wave of nausea washes over him, and he has to sit back down. “Are you okay?”

  
“I’m fine,” Timothée lies. “I just haven’t eaten enough today.”

  
He flashes a small smile, but the truth is that he is terrified. What if Armie’s father won’t believe Armie, what if he will not accept this? What if he will kick Timothée out, and he will tell Armie to end their friendship? What if this is going to change everything?

  
“Thank you,” Armie whispers, as they are about to enter the house. “For doing this with me.”

  
“Of course. This is my fault.”

  
“Timmy…”

  
“Let’s go in,” Timothée whispers, and Armie nods, but he is shaking, so Timothée opens the door for him, and he places a hand on his lower back to show him support. But when he finds Armie’s father sitting at the kitchen table, looking more than just a little upset, he quickly steps away from Armie.

  
“Sit down.”

  
“Dad, I…,” Armie begins, but his father looks up at him with such an angry look in his eyes, that he keeps quiet. The young men sit down at the table, but they don’t know what to say, so they sit there in silence for what seems to be hours.

  
“What about Elizabeth?” Armie’s father finally asks. “I thought you and her…”

  
“We are,” Armie says. “She’s still… we are still together.”

  
“Then what the hell were you thinking, Armie?”

  
“I don’t know,” Armie mumbles, staring down at the table. “This was just…”

  
“Just what? Because it sure as hell didn’t look like ‘just’ anything. Do you know what it looked like to me?”

  
“I…”

  
“It looked like you were cheating on your girlfriend.”

  
“I wasn’t,” Armie says, as he looks up at his father. “Timmy and I, we’re not…”

  
“You weren’t having sex?”

  
“No,” Armie mumbles. “We haven’t… we’re not… it’s not like that.”

  
Armie’s father looks at Timothée for some kind of explanation or reassurance, but Timothée feels like it isn’t his place to speak, so he doesn’t say anything, not until Armie lets him know that he needs him.

  
“Then what is it like, huh?”

  
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Armie tries to explain. “We’re just… what we do, it’s only…”

  
“This has happened before?”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“Armie, if you are gay, then…”

  
“No!” Armie says, but then he shakes his head, and he stares back down at the table. “I don’t know.”

  
“You…,” Armie’s father sighs. “Is this… I understand if you want to experiment, or if you want to… I don’t know, try to figure out who you are ,” he says. “But you have a girlfriend. This isn’t fair on her. I’m assuming she doesn’t know about this?”

  
“No.”

  
“Then you have got to make a choice. You can’t keep lying to her. You either stop doing this, or you tell her. Or you end things with her,” his father suggests, but Timothée can see the fear in Armie’s eyes, and underneath the table, he reaches for his hand, and grabs it as tight as possible.

  
“I’m sorry, mister Hammer, for…”

“This isn’t your fault,” Armie quickly says. “I’m the one with a girlfriend, you just…”

  
“I am not angry with either of you,” Armie’s father says. “and if you want to be together, then I’m not going to stop you, but…”

  
“It’s not like that,” Timothée quickly says. “We’re just friends.”

  
“Either way. I am only upset because of Elizabeth. Whatever you guys do, that is your business.”

  
Armie is on the verge of tears, and when his father sees it, he reaches out, and he puts a hand on his arm.

  
“Hey, look at me, Armie,” he says, and his son looks up at him, his lip quivering. “If you are gay, it doesn’t matter to me or your mom, okay? You’re our kid, and we love you. Just don’t do this to that girl.”

  
“I know…”

  
Armie’s father gets up, but even before he has left the kitchen, Armie has fallen into Timothée’s arms, sobbing. Timothée doesn’t know what to say, so he simply strokes the back of his neck, trying to calm him down. But he knows how scared he is, because he knows how hard Armie had been trying to become the version of himself that he had been showing everyone, the happy-go-lucky eighteen-year old with a girlfriend, who doesn’t have a care in the world. To show the other side of himself, the side which up until now he had only shown to Timothée, to his father, it must be absolutely terrifying. Because this means that there are no more walls to hide behind, that he is being left vulnerable.

* * *

“Are you okay?” Timothée whispers, when he and Armie are in bed that night.

  
“No.”

  
“I’m proud of you.”

  
“For hurting Liz?”

  
“No, for being honest with your dad,” Timothée says, and he turns on his side, so he can look at him. “When you told him you don’t know if you’re gay…”

  
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  
“But you did.”

  
“It doesn’t matter,” Armie whispers, and he wants to turn his head away, but Timothée places a hand on the side of his face, and makes him face him. “I’m scared, okay?”

  
“Is this why you wanted us to…”

  
“I guess.”

  
“When was the first time you started questioning it?” Timothée asks. “Have you ever…”

  
“You don’t get it, do you?” Armie snaps, and Timothée takes his hand away from his face, scared he has said the wrong thing. He had only been trying to help, and the thought of having messed this up, it makes him feel horrible. “I love Liz, and I was happy with her. Just her. But then you walked into our school one day, and you just…”

  
“No.”

  
“Yeah, Timmy,” Armie whispers. “Why do you think I noticed that you were on your own every day? Why do you think I convinced them to invite you? Why do you think I wanted us to…” He sighs, before looking up at the ceiling. “I have never felt this way before, man, so I don’t know what to do, or what to… I don’t know what this is. What it means.”

  
“Maybe it’s like you said, maybe this is just a bit of fun. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything,” Timothée suggests. “Maybe it’s just a phase, you know? You love Liz.”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“You can’t be gay, or you wouldn’t be in love with her,” Timothée says, trying to reassure Armie. “Let’s just… we’ll just stop doing all that, and then before you know it, it’s like nothing ever happened.”

  
“Timmy…”

  
“You’re not gay, Armie,” Timothée says, but he isn’t sure if he is trying to convince Armie or himself. But he needs it to be true, because the thought of Armie being gay and in love with him, of Elizabeth’s heart ending up getting broken, of losing his friends when they all blame him for it, it’s unbearable. “You’ll see.”


	7. Chapter 7

It’s the night of their graduation, and the group of friends are at a hotel, where a party is being held for all the students who have graduated. It had started out quiet, and when a group of girls had started crying because they were all about to move to different places, Saoirse had threatened to leave. But once people had started bringing in drinks, and one of the students had taken over the DJ-station, the party had started to pick up.

  
Timothée is watching his friends all dancing with each other, and it hits him that he has only known them for a couple of months. Sometimes it feels like he has known them for years, and he remembers how he had felt, when he had first met them. He had been so scared to put a foot wrong, so scared to scare them off. He had been terrified of them finding out about his past. But once he had told Armie, nothing had changed. If anything, it had made his and Armie’s bond stronger. But as he watches them, there is a dark and heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Because from the outside, it looks like nothing could tear the group apart, but if the truth about him and Armie is going to come out, everything will change.

  
He leaves the hotel, and he goes out into the garden, hoping that some fresh air will help get rid of the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He finds a bench, hidden away in between the hedges, and he can’t help but smile. Because from here, he can hear the laughter coming from indoors, from the students enjoying their last night together, before everything is going to change.

  
“May I join you?”

“Oh…”

  
“If you’d rather be alone…”

  
“No, sit down.”

  
Armie sits down next to him, and he hesitates, before placing a hand on Timothée’s knee.

  
“Armie, I…”

  
“It’s beautiful here,” Armie whispers, not giving Timothée a chance to speak, because he is too scared of what he is about to say. Too scared to be rejected, to be told that after Edinburgh, they can’t see each other anymore. “Timmy?”

  
“Mhm?”

  
“May I kiss you?”

  
“Kiss me?”

  
Armie nods, a nervous look on his face, and Timothée can tell that this isn’t just about having a bit of fun. He looks up at the full moon, and he can’t help but smile. But when Armie gets up, ready to walk off, he looks back at him.

  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It was…”

  
“No, Armie, I…,” Timothée begins, but then he gets up, and he steps up to him. “Are you sure about this?”

  
Armie gives a nervous nod, before placing his clammy hands on the side of Timothée’s neck. Timothée presses his lips against Armie’s, half expecting their kiss to be nothing more than a peck. But Armie kisses him with such a wanting, such a longing, that it brings tears to his eyes.

  
“Timmy, I…”

  
“Don’t,” Timothée whispers, as he steps away from him. “We should go back in.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
They go back into the hotel, and as soon as Elizabeth notices them, she comes over to them, a big smile on her face.

  
“I’ve been looking for you! Did you hear? Henry has…,” she begins, but when a new song starts playing, her smile grows even bigger. “I love this song! Come on!”

  
She drags Armie onto the dance floor, and Timothée is left on his own, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he is glad to be away from Armie for a moment, because he is angry with him. He knows it isn’t fair, but he is starting to blame Armie for putting him in this situation. For making him feel uncomfortable around Elizabeth, for making him feel all this guilt, not only towards her, but towards their other friends. For making him feel like a traitor.

  
As he watches Armie and Elizabeth on the dance floor, their hands and their mouths all over each other, he feels sick. He even starts to wonder if it has all been one big lie. Has Armie been playing him? If so, what would be the point? Was it a game, was it good for his ego, trying to make someone fall for him?

  
He can feel himself getting more angry with Armie, and he hates himself for it. So he leaves the room, planning on going home. He is already getting his phone out of his pocket, to call his mother to ask her to come and pick him up. But he feels a hand on his back, and he turns around.

  
“Where are you going?” Henry asks. “Are you leaving?”

  
“Yeah. I’m tired, so…”

  
“Look, it’s none of my business, but…,” Henry says, before looking over his shoulder to check if they are alone. “You and Armie, when I caught you in bed that time…”

  
“You’re right, it’s none of your business,” Timothée snaps, and he turns to leave. But Henry grabs his arm to stop him. “Let me go.”

  
“I know Armie, and he has changed since he has met you, so either you have got him caught up in something, or…”

  
“No!”

  
“He’s in love with Liz. You know that, don’t you?” Henry asks, still a firm grip on Timothée’s arm. “He’s never going to leave her, not for someone like you.”

  
“I…”

  
“You leave him alone.”

  
“What the hell is going on here?” Armie asks, as he steps up to them. “Let go of him!”

  
“He was only trying to stop me from leaving, I was…”

  
“I heard what he said,” Armie says, before putting a hand on Timothée’s back, and looking at him. “Are you okay?”

  
“I’m fine, it’s…”

  
“You have no right, telling him to back off,” Armie spits out, as he turns to Henry. “What I do, and who I do it with…”

  
“I was only trying to look out for you, I…”

  
“No, you back off, Henry!”

  
“Stop it,” Timothée says. “What the hell are you doing, arguing? Nothing is going on, so why…?”

  
“I’m sorry,” Henry says, “I only want you and Liz to be happy, without…”

  
“Without what?”

  
“I don’t want him to mess things up for you.”

  
“He hasn’t messed anything up,” Armie says. “I…”

  
“What?”

  
“Just leave him alone, yeah?” Armie warns him, and Henry glances over to Timothée, before giving a nod, and going back into the hotel. “I’m sorry, man, he…”

  
“Is right, Armie. If he can see it, then how long will it be before Saoirse sees it, or Liz?”

  
“I will tell her.”

  
“Tell her what?”

  
“I don’t know,” Armie admits, and he sighs. “I’m sorry, man. You didn’t choose to be dragged into this, I…”

  
“There is nothing to tell her, Armie,” Timothée says, as he places his hands on his friend’s arms. “So you go back in there, and you…,” he continues, but before he can say more, Armie has kissed him.

  
But Timothée pulls away, and he steps away from him.

  
“I’m sorry, man, I…”

  
“Don’t.”

  
“Please don’t leave because of me. Saoirse is still in there. You can’t leave her alone. You know what she’s like,” Armie says, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “Come on, man.”

  
“Fine. But don’t kiss me again.”

  
“I won’t. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself from now on,” Armie says, and he sticks out his hand. “Are we okay?”

  
“Of course.” Timothée smiles, as he shakes his hand. And although he knows he should leave, he finds himself following Armie back into the hotel.

* * *

The party is coming to an end, and everyone is on the dance floor now, trying to spend every last moment with their friends. Even Timothée is on the dance floor, trying to keep up with Saoirse. But when the last song is announced, Saoirse kisses him on the cheek, and she makes a quick apology, before running over to Elizabeth.

  
Timothée is about to leave the dance floor, but he feels a hand on his lower back, and he turns back around.

  
“May I have this dance?”

  
“We shouldn’t.”

  
“Timmy!”

  
“Fine,” Timothée laughs, and Armie wraps his arms around his waist, and pulls him close. Timothée puts his arms around Armie’s neck, and for a moment, he expects to be pulled back, to be dragged away by other students. To be laughed at, to be kicked and beaten. Armie realises how tense he is, and pulls him even closer.

  
“Relax, man.”

  
“I’m sorry, I just…”

  
“I know. But you’re okay,” Armie whispers, “I told you, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Armie?"

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Thank you.”

  
“For what?”

  
“Giving me a chance, even after I told you about what I did,” Timothée whispers, and Armie looks at him with a confused look on his face. “When I tried to…”

  
“Yeah, I know what you’re saying, but… you have got to stop thanking me, man. I love you, and…”

  
“What?”

  
Armie flashes a small smile, before bringing his mouth up to his ear.

  
“You heard me.”

  
Timothée frees himself from his grip, and he pushes him away, the rage building up inside of him.

  
“What the hell is wrong with you?”

  
“I just…”

  
“Fuck you, Armie!”

  
He storms away from him, out of the hotel, and it isn’t until he is sure that no one has followed him, that he stops to call his mother to come and pick him up.

  
“What did you say to him?” Elizabeth asks, as she hurries over to her boyfriend. “What happened?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“He seems upset, should we…?”

  
“Just leave him. He’ll be fine,” Armie says, forcing a smile on his face, but the guilt is making him feel sick to his stomach, and it takes him all of his strength to try and fight his tears. Because the last thing he wants to do is hurt anyone, yet here he is, constantly hurting everyone. He had always been able to get it right, but he can’t seem to be able to get anything right anymore, no matter how hard he tries.

* * *

It’s the day before the group of friends are supposed to leave for Edinburgh, but Timothée hasn’t left his room since graduation, and he has been ignoring his friend’s texts and phone calls. Armie had even shown up at his house, but Timothée had asked his mother to send him away.

  
But he is in bed now, and when there is a knock on the door, he expects it to be his mother, to try and get him to come down for lunch.

  
“Come in.”

  
The door opens, and Armie is standing there, a nervous look on his face.

  
“What are you…?”

  
“I come in peace,” Armie says, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “May I come in?”

  
“Sure.”

  
Armie steps into his room, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting down at the desk.

  
“I’m sorry, man. I know I messed up when I said I…”

  
“You can’t say that.”

  
“I know. But I meant it,” Armie sighs. “I mean it. You’ve become my best friend, Timmy, and I love you. I’m not sure in what way, but…”

  
“You’re doing it again.”

  
“Because I can’t lie to you,” Armie admits. “I never try to hurt you, or to piss you off.”

  
“I feel like there’s two sides to you,” Timothée admits, as he sits up in his bed. “When you’re around your friends, you’re not the same as when we’re alone. And it scares me, because I feel like I’m walking into a trap.”

  
“A trap?”

  
“I thought you were showing me the real you, and it made me trust you, but now I feel like you’re…”

  
“What?”

  
“Like that is the real you, and this is just… I don’t know, maybe it makes you feel good, to get attention, or to…”

  
“You think none of this is real?” Armie asks, not even giving him a chance to finish his sentence. “You think that everything I told you, I made it up, to get your attention?”

  
“I don’t know.”

  
“For fuck sake, Timmy!” Armie snaps, and he gets up and starts pacing up and down the room. “You were there, weren’t you, you heard what I told my dad. You think I would have told him that, just to get your attention?”

  
“I…”

  
“I told you things I have never told anyone, not even Henry. I would never dare tell him that I…,” he spits out, but then he lowers his voice, afraid that Timothée’s parents will hear him. “that I want to be with you. That I can’t stop thinking about you, that I…”

  
“Stop it.”

  
“What? You think all of this is, what? Some game to me? That I have Liz, but wouldn’t it be good to know that I could trick a guy into getting into bed with me?” Armie asks, but when he sees the pain in Timothée’s eyes, he stops in his tracks. “You actually think I would do that to you?”

  
“I don’t know,” Timothée admits. “Because I don’t know who you are, Armie. I don’t know who is the real you. I thought I did, but…”

  
“Yeah, you do,” Armie says, as he goes over to him, and he kneels down in front of him. “You know me, man.”

  
“I don’t.”

  
“You do,” Armie whispers. “Please...”

  
“I don’t want to get hurt again,” Timothée admits, and Armie places his hands on the side of his neck.

  
“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  
“Yeah, you are.”

  
“Timmy…,” Armie sighs, before letting himself fall back onto the floor, and he stares up at the ceiling.

  
“This was only supposed to be a bit fun. That’s what you said.”

  
“It was fun though, wasn’t it?” Armie asks, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “So that’s the end of it then?”

  
“Yeah. No more…”

  
“I know,” Armie says. “I’ll keep my hands to myself from now on.”

  
“You’ve said that before.”

  
“I have, but I want to make things work with Liz. I do love her, so…”

  
“I hope things work out for you.”

  
“You make it sound like we’re saying goodbye,” Armie says, and he sits up, a confused look on his face. “We’re not, are we?”

  
“How can we be friends, after…”

  
“How can we not?” Armie asks. “I mean it, man, you’re my best friend. What we did… I have never felt so close to anyone before, I…” He sighs, before getting up and sitting down on the bed with Timothée. “Can we please go back to before we crossed a line? Where it became… whatever the hell it became?”

  
“So… back to when we met?” Timothée suggests, and Armie can’t help but smile, as he playfully nudges him in the arm.

  
“Yeah, if that’s what you want. I can’t lose you, man,” Armie says, before grabbing his hand. “One day we’ll be laughing about all of this.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“And you have got to come to Edinburgh with us, Timmy. It won’t be the same without you.”

  
“Armie…”

  
“Please. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a handsome Scotsman while we’re out there,” Armie tries, but Timothée can see the uncomfortable look on his face, and he can’t help but laugh. “Too soon?”

  
“Too soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edinburgh coming up in the next chapter! As if these boys are going to be able to keep their hands off each other! ;-)


	8. Chapter 8

The group of friends have been in Edinburgh for almost a week, and even though Timothée hadn’t wanted to come, he is glad Armie had convinced him to change his mind. Although he is spending most of his time with Saoirse, and he doesn’t get to spend much time with Armie at all, he is having the best time, and it feels like the trip of a lifetime.

  
They are at a club now, after having spent most of the day at a museum, and Henry is just getting them another round of drinks.

  
“So, I have to ask,” Saoirse begins, but by the grin on her face, Timothée can already tell that this isn’t good. “What is the deal with you?”

  
“What do you mean?” Timothée laughs, but his heart is starting to beat faster, and he can feel himself getting nervous.

“Why aren’t you out there, dancing, having a bit of a flirt?”

  
“I don’t know,” Timothée shrugs. “That’s not really my thing.”

  
“Oh, come on, look around you,” Saoirse says. “Have you seen the guys here?”

  
“The guys?” Elizabeth asks, and Saoirse pulls an uncomfortable face.

  
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry!”

  
“That’s fine,” Timothée laughs, but the truth is that he is terrified of Elizabeth’s reaction. Armie has told him that no one will care, but what if he’s wrong?

  
“You’re gay?”

  
“Yeah. Is that alright?”

  
“Oh, please, who do you think I am?” Elizabeth laughs. “But why did you tell Saoirse, and not us?” she asks, but when she sees her boyfriend’s face, she rolls her eyes. “You knew.”

  
“Yeah, he told me.”

  
“And no one told me. Does Henry know?”

  
“Do I know what?”

  
“That I’m gay.”

  
“Oh, that,” Henry laughs. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

  
“Was I the only one that didn’t know?” Elizabeth asks. “God, I need to do something about my gaydar!”

  
“You know that isn’t a thing, right?” Saoirse rolls her eyes. “For fuck sake, Liz.”

  
“What?”

  
“Ignore her. She’s an idiot.”

  
“Was that offensive?” Elizabeth asks, but Timothée can’t help but laugh, and he shakes his head. The girls start arguing about it, so Armie puts his arm around Timothée’s shoulder, and he pulls him into a hug.

  
“Are you okay, man?”

  
“I think so.”

“Want to dance?”

  
“With you?” Timothée laughs, as Armie lets go of him.

  
“What? I’m not good enough for you, huh?” he laughs, raising an eyebrow. “Fine, go dance with them, then.”

  
“I didn’t mean…”

  
“For fuck same, Timmy. Just shut up and dance with me.”

* * *

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Elizabeth asks, when she joins Armie at the bar.

  
“Tell you what?”

  
“That Timothée is gay.”

  
“Does it matter?”

  
“Of course not. I just thought… I don’t know, I thought you or Saoirse would have told me,” she shrugs. “Or I would have been able to tell, you know?”

  
“Oh yeah, by his limp wrist and his handbag. Of course, how could I forget?” Armie snaps, and he grabs his drink and walks off. But his girlfriend follows him, and grabs his arm.

  
“I didn’t mean to…”

  
“Don’t you hear what you’re saying?”

  
“Come on, Armie. You know what most gay men are like, usually you can tell.”

  
“Can you?”

  
“Yeah.” Elizabeth nods, unaware of how upset Armie is getting. “There’s this thing about them, it just…”

  
“Stop, okay? Just stop!”

  
“Why are you like this? I don’t mean anything by it, I’m only saying…”

  
“I know what you’re saying, Liz,” Armie says. “But Timmy…”

  
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth quickly says, and when Timothée walks up to them, still laughing at a joke Saoirse had made, she fakes a smile. “Hey you.”

  
“Is everything okay?”

  
“Everything is fine.”

  
“Are you sure?” Timothée asks, and Armie nods, but he can tell that he has just walked in on something. “I should…”

  
“No, Timothée, I ehm… I made an offensive comment about gay men. I didn’t mean to, but…,” Elizabeth explains, an embarrassed look on her face. “I didn’t even think it was offensive, but Armie, he got upset with me.”

  
“Oh…”

  
“I’m sorry. If I ever do it again, and I say the wrong thing, please tell me, okay? What I said earlier, about the gaydar… I didn’t mean…”

  
“It’s fine, honestly,” Timothée says, and he can’t believe how this has become such a big thing. To him, it hadn’t meant anything, and knowing that this has caused an argument between Armie and Elizabeth, it makes him feel horrible.

  
“Either way, I’m sorry. And you ehm… you’ve got someone here who has your back,” Elizabeth laughs, looking up at her boyfriend. “He got pretty upset with me, so…”

  
Timothée can see the embarrassed look on Armie’s face, and he realises that this wasn’t just about him, that it was about her making comments about gay men in general. He hadn’t only been defending Timothée, he had also been defending himself.  
Timothée sighs, and he leads them to a quieter place.

  
“I told Armie about my old school, about how I was bullied there. For being gay,” he explains.

  
“So Armie was just being a good friend, while I…,” Elizabeth says, an embarrassed look on her face. “God, I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

  
“No, not at all,” Timothée quickly says. “Whatever you said, I’m sure it’s fine.”

  
“I got a little overprotective, I’m sorry,” Armie says, and he flashes Elizabeth a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t mean…”

  
“How about I get us all another round then?” Elizabeth suggests, and after she has given them both a peck on the cheek, she leaves to go back to the bar.

  
“Are you okay?”

  
“I don’t know what happened,” Armie admits. “She said some stupid stuff, and I just…”

  
“You got offended?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
Timothée leans up to Armie’s ear, a mischievous smile on his face.

  
“Here I was, thinking you were trying to make this straight thing work…,” he whispers, and Armie playfully pushes him away.

  
“You son of a…!”

“Don’t worry,” Timothée laughs. “Just try to relax a bit.”

  
“Who are you, and what have you done to my Timmy?”

  
“Your Timmy?” Timothée laughs, but Armie just shakes his head, laughing to himself, before walking off and joining his girlfriend. And as Timothée watches him, he can tell that the disagreement is already been forgiven and forgotten about, and that they will be just fine.

* * *

“I told you, I am not interested,” Saoirse spits out, as she pushes the guy who has been trying to dance with her all night, off her. But he wraps his arm around her waist again, and he tries to kiss her, and although she would never admit it, he is too strong for her, and she is starting to get scared, because her friends are on the other side of the dance floor, and she is certain that they can’t see her.

  
“Just a little…”

  
“No!” Saoirse snaps, but the guy kisses her, the grip on her back tightening. But as she is certain that this is it, this is the moment where her life is about to change, she feels herself being pulled out of his arms. Strong arms wrap around her, but she isn’t sure what is happening, and it isn’t until she looks up, and she stares straight into Armie’s eyes, that she realises she is safe.

  
“Let’s get you out of here,” Armie says, but all she can do is nod. And as she is being led out of the club, she can feel her legs give out. But Armie picks her up, and she wraps her arms around his neck, before burying her face into his neck.

  
“What the hell happened to you?” Elizabeth asks, and it isn’t until Saoirse hears the fear in her voice, that she opens her eyes again, and she looks up. She is still in Armie’s arms, and they are on their way, back to the hotel, but Henry is only now catching up to them. “What is that?”

  
“It’s nothing,” Henry lies, trying to hide his hand, but they have already seen the blood. “I saw what he did to Saoirse, so…”

  
“What did you do?” Elizabeth asks. “Is he…”

  
“He’ll be fine.” Henry shrugs. “Are you okay?” he asks, as he puts his other hand on Saoirse’s back.

  
“I think so.”

  
“I’ll stay with you tonight,” Elizabeth says. “I’m not leaving you on your own.”

  
“Thank you, Liz.”

* * *

The group had stayed with Saoirse for a while, but she had wanted to go to sleep, so Elizabeth had stayed with her, while the others had gone to their own rooms. Timothée is trying to get to sleep, but too much has happened tonight, and his mind keeps racing. Because who knows what would have happened if they hadn’t seen what was happening to Saoirse in time?  
But there is a knock on the door, and Timothée snaps out of his thoughts. He opens the door, expecting it to be someone from the hotel, but Armie is standing there.

  
“What are you...?” Timothée begins to ask, but Armie steps into the room, and he shuts the door behind him. He pushes Timothée up against the wall, and he kisses him with such a force, that for a moment, Timothée isn’t sure if this is a good or a bad thing.

  
But when Armie lets go of him, he can see the fire in his eyes, and he can’t help but smile.

  
“I thought we were going to stop doing this?”

  
“I’ve tried, man, but… fuck, I need you,” Armie whispers, before kissing him again.

  
“Armie, I…,” Timothée whispers, as Armie leads him over to the bed. “What are we doing?”

  
“Do you want to stop?”

  
“No,” Timothée admits, a shy smile on his face. He takes off his underwear, and although he has been naked with Armie so many times before, something about tonight feels different. He feels exposed, vulnerable.

  
“You are so beautiful,” Armie whispers, and Timothée can’t help but laugh. “I mean it, you…”

  
“Shut up!”

  
Armie pushes him down onto the bed, and he gets down on top of him. But Timothée still feels different about tonight. There is something in their kissing, in Armie’s touches, which feels nervous, hesitant.

  
“Armie, what are…,” he begins to ask, but Armie moves away from him, and Timothée can see that he is shivering. “What is going on? You’re scared.”

  
“I am,” Armie admits. “I ehm… I didn’t come here because I want us to make out,” he sighs. “Or to jerk each other off, or…”

  
“What is going on?” Timothée asks, getting nervous. “We can just hang out, or we’ll watch tv?”

  
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Armie says, and he reaches out for Timothée’s hand and takes it, his hands shaky and clammy. “I came here because I was hoping…”

  
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

  
“I want to be your first,” Armie finally blurts out, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “I know I have no right to want it, and I…”

  
“What? Because your girlfriend is right next door?” Timothée laughs. “Because you’re supposed to be straight?” he adds, with a grin on his face.

  
“Fuck you.”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée laughs, and Armie rolls back on top of him, a big, relieved smile on his face. He pins Timothée’s hands down on the bed, and he leans down to kiss him. But as he sits up, he sees that the smile has disappeared from Timothée’s face.

  
“What?”

  
“I would have been glad, if my first time had been with you,” Timothée admits, “but I have nothing here with me. If we are going to do this, I want to be safe.”

  
“But this is what you want?”

  
“Armie…”

  
“No then,” Armie says, unable to hide the hurt in his voice. “I’m sorry, I thought you meant… I’m sorry.” He moves to the edge of the bed, but as he is staring down at his feet, trying to handle the rejection, he feels arms wrapping around his waist, and Timothée’s chin resting on his shoulder.

  
“I want my first time to be with you,” Timothée whispers into his ear. “and if I had a way to make it work…”

  
“You do?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée laughs, and he tightens his grip on his waist. “Who better to share the most awkward of moment of my life…”

  
“Timmy…”

  
“Like it’s not going to be awkward,” Timothée laughs. “First times are awkward. You can’t tell me yours wasn’t?”

  
“It was,” Armie admits, as he looks down at Timothée’s arms around his waist. “But this is different, this is…”

  
“Just a bit of fun?” Timothée suggests, and Armie can’t help but smile. “Maybe we’ll find the right moment again one day.”

  
“Or we can do it tonight.”

  
“I told you…”

  
“Give me a minute,” Armie says, and he frees himself from Timothée’s grip, and without saying another word, he leaves his room. For a moment, Timothée thinks he has left to go to bed, but when there’s a knock on the door, he goes to open it, and he finds Armie standing there with a handful of condoms, and a bottle of lube in the other hand.

  
“I come prepared,” Armie admits, and Timothée raises an eyebrow, but then he realises that Armie had been planning on having sex with Elizabeth, probably has been having sex with her since they have gotten here. And when Armie sees the uncomfortable look on his face, he sighs. “Henry.”

  
“What?”

  
“They’re Henry’s.”

  
“I don’t…”

  
“I had to get them from Henry,” Armie explains, as he steps past Timothée, into the room.

  
“You told him?”

  
“He isn’t going to tell anyone,” Armie says, as he sets the items down on the bed. “And if this is how we… fuck, shouldn’t I have said anything?”

  
“Well, seeing as you’ve gone to the trouble of getting them…,” Timothée begins, a shy smile on his face. “We might as well…”

  
“Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah.” Timothée nods, before stepping up to Armie. “But only if it isn’t going to change anything.”

  
“It won’t.”


	9. Chapter 9

When Timothée wakes up the next morning, Armie has already left. But there is a note on the pillow, and when he picks up and reads it, he can’t help but smile.

  
_Didn’t want to wake you up, you’re beautiful when you sleep. Love, Armie.  
Ps. Nothing has changed. I promise._

  
Timothée gets out of bed, and he gets into the shower, to get ready for the day. But as he steps out of the shower, there is knocking on the door. He opens it, and he finds Saoirse standing there, so he lets her in, and she sits down on the bed.

  
“How are you?”

  
“Tired, but I’m alright. Nothing happened, because you guys got to me in time,” she says, but there is an uncomfortable look on her face, and she sighs. “Still a little shaken up.”

  
“Yeah. If you need to get back to the hotel today, just…”

  
“Definitely not. I want to go out there, see all the animals, and…,” she begins, but when she notices the trashcan, she stops talking. “What is… Timothée Chalamet! Who is he?” she laughs, pointing at the used condom.

  
“Oh… it isn’t, that is…,” Timothée stutters, “It’s just…”

  
“Is it…,” Saoirse begins, a big grin on her face, but then she notices the note on the pillow, and she picks it up. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

  
“Please don’t tell Liz.”

  
“For fuck sake, Timothée! What is wrong with you? You know they…”

  
There is another knock on the door, and Timothée quickly goes to open it, hoping to be saved from having this conversation just now, but when Armie steps into his room, he knows that there is no avoiding it.

  
“How could you do this to Liz?” Saoirse spits out, and she punches Armie in the chest. “She loves you!”

  
“I…”

  
“She is already planning your future together!”

  
“It’s not what it looks like,” Timothée says, and Saoirse raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “After we left your room last night, I went down to the bar, and I met this guy…,” he quickly says. “I brought him up to my room, and we had sex.”

  
“Oh for fuck sake, do you expect me to believe that? What about this then?”

  
“Armie came over later, to discuss our plans for today. I fell asleep, and he didn’t want to wake me up. That’s all.”

  
“Right,” Saoirse says, and she turns back to Armie. “And this? ‘ _Nothing has changed. I promise_ ’. What’s that?”

  
“Our plans for today. Nothing has changed,” Timothée tries, but even he knows that it sounds ridiculous, and when Saoirse rolls her eyes at him, he has to look away. He sees the grateful look on Armie’s face, but still he feels sick with guilt. Because now that Saoirse knows, it’s only a matter of time before Elizabeth will find out. Before it will all fall apart.

  
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Saoirse asks. “I knew you fancied him, but I…,” she sighs. “I thought it was just a crush, I didn’t think you…” She looks back at Armie again, and punches him in the chest again. “For fuck sake, Armie! How could you?”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Don’t tell me that! Tell Liz!”

  
“It didn’t mean anything…”

  
“It didn’t mean anything?” Saoirse asks. “Well, then I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? You go on, you fuck someone else. I’m sure she won’t mind at all!”

  
“I…”

  
“No, Armie, you cheated on her! You tell her, or I will.”

  
“I can’t.”

  
“Then I tell her,” Saoirse says, and she turns to leave the room.

  
“Wait,” Timothée quickly says, and she turns back around. “Please don’t. Not while we’re here. Don’t ruin this trip for her.”

  
“You did that!”

  
“Timmy is right,” Armie agrees. “You know how much this trip means to her, so please let her have that.”

  
“Fine. But you stay away from each other. If I see…”

  
“We will,” Armie quickly says. “It didn’t… this was nothing. We’re not…”

  
“I don’t care!” Saoirse snaps. “What you did was wrong, and you know it.”

  
“Yeah… and you shouldn’t have to tell her.”

  
“No, I shouldn’t, Armie! But you have put me in this situation, and now I have no choice.”

  
“I’ll tell her,” Armie says. “When we get back home, I’ll tell her.”

  
“If you don’t…”

  
“I will.”

  
“Was this…,” Saoirse begins to ask, but then she hesitates, and she looks at Timothée. “How long has this been going on?”

  
“There is nothing going on between us,” Timothée says, and Saoirse nods. “He loves Liz.”

  
“I thought you were better than this, Timothée. I thought you were one of the good ones, not… you’re just like all of them, aren’t you?”

  
“I’m sorry…”

  
“Yeah, me too,” Saoirse says, before leaving the room. Timothée sits down on the bed, the guilt almost too much to bear, and when Armie tries to put his arms around him, he pushes him away.

  
“Timmy…”

  
“Just go away.”

  
“I’m sorry, man, I didn’t think…”

  
“Go away!”

  
Armie leaves the room, and Timothée gets back into bed, unable to leave his room, unable to go down and spend the day with his friends. Because the thought of facing them, when all of them except for Elizabeth know what has happened last night, it makes him feel like the biggest traitor. It makes him feel like they were happy before he came along, and he has messed their lives up. It makes him feel like they would be better off without him. Like everyone would be better off without him.

* * *

Timothée is still in bed that night, when there is a knock on his door. He assumes it’s one of his friends, to ask him why he hasn’t shown up today. But he can’t face them. So he ignores it, hoping they will go away.

  
But when the knocking gets louder, and goes on for minutes on end, he jumps out of bed, and he opens the door.

  
“Armie has asked me to see if you’re okay.”

  
“He told you?”

  
“Yeah. May I come in?” Henry asks, but before giving Timothée a chance to answer, he walks past him, into the room, and he sits down on the bed. “He wanted to come and see you, but he’s afraid Saoirse will tell Liz about what happened, so…”

  
“So he sent you.”

  
“Yes.”

  
“You can tell him that I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

  
“I’m just tired,” Timothée lies, but Henry sighs. “I can’t face them, not after…”

  
“It’s not your fault. Well, it is, you could have said no, you could have…”

  
“I know. I should have, I…”

  
“But he’s the one with a girlfriend,” Henry continues. “He made a choice to sleep with you, to cheat on her.”

  
“It wasn’t like that. He didn’t…”

  
“Cheat? You had sex, Timothée. I’m fairly certain Liz would consider that cheating.”

  
“But he said that guys do it all the time. What we did…,” Timothée begins, but then he realises that he has said too much, and he looks down at his feet, an embarrassed look on his face.

  
“Don’t worry,” Henry laughs. “He told me, last night. That you’ve been… intimate, for some time now. I know that some guys do it, and I will be the last person to judge you for it, but… I think it’s more than that. That is why I warned you to stay away from him. I knew things were going to go too far, and someone was going to end up getting hurt.”

  
“He is in love with Liz.”

  
“Is he?”

  
“Of course,” Timothée says, but Henry shrugs. “He is.”

  
“Where does that put you in all of this?” Henry asks. “You’re just there when he wants to fuck?”

  
“No, I…”

  
“He wants to be with Liz, but when she’s not there, you’ll do?”

  
“No…”

  
“He can’t have it both, Timothée. He can’t be with her, and have you on the side. And I know he’s been telling you that there are no feelings involved, that it’s just… whatever it is. But I know you aren’t buying that crap either.”

  
“He wants to be with her.”

  
“Then this needs to stop,” Henry says. “Not just for Liz, or for him. But you deserve more than this too. Don’t let him string you along.”

  
“He isn’t.”

  
“He is, Timothée. He isn’t going to leave her, because whether he is in love with her or not, whether he has feelings for you or not, he thinks being with her is the right thing to do. It’s the easy thing to do.”

  
“That’s not why he’s with her,” Timothée says, and Henry can’t help but smile. “What?”

  
“You’re in love with him.”

  
“Of course not, I…”

  
“Think about what I said,” Henry says, before getting up, and making his way over to the door. “Don’t let him mess you about. You deserve someone who doesn’t have a girlfriend, who doesn’t… he isn’t going to leave her, not for you.”

  
“I know.”

  
“Oh, and Timothée? We’re having breakfast at eight, don’t be late.”

* * *

Timothée had tried to fake a smile for the remaining time in Edinburgh, but there had been an awkwardness between him and Armie. And although Saoirse had tried her best to be nice to him, she had obviously still been angry with him. So in the end, he had been happy to go home and get away from everyone.

  
It has been almost two weeks since they have gotten home, and he has ignored every phone call from his friends, and he hasn’t seen them once, so he is starting to get used to being alone again. He doesn’t even mind much. He misses them, but he knows that they are better off without him.

  
He spends most of his days in his bedroom, reading, or listening to music. But his mother is worried about him, and she has called Armie and asked him to come over, unaware of everything that has happened in Edinburgh.

  
“I’m so glad you’re here.”

  
“Is he okay?”

  
“He hasn’t been himself since you got back from your trip,” Timothée’s mother says, a worried look on her face. “At first I thought he was tired, but… did something happen?”

  
“No, nothing. I’m sure you’re right, Mrs. Chalamet, he is probably just tired. Do you want me to talk to him?”

  
“Will you?”

  
“Of course.” Armie fakes a smile, before going up to Timothée’s room, and knocking on the door. But there is no answer, and a wave of nausea washes over him. What if Timothée’s mother is right, what if something is wrong? What if things have become too much for him?

  
He opens the door, scared of what he will find, but when he realises Timothée is asleep, he can’t help but smile.

  
He goes into the room, closes the door behind him, and quietly goes over to the bed. He sits down on the side of the bed, and places a hand on Timothée’s chest, and just the feel of his skin, it makes his heart skip a beat.

  
“Timmy?”

  
Timothée slowly opens his eyes, a confused look on his face. But when he realises Armie is in his room, a small smile forms on his lips.

  
“I’ve missed you,” Armie whispers.

  
“What are you doing here?”

  
“Your mom called me. She’s worried about you.”

  
“I’m fine.”

  
“No, you’re not,” Armie whispers, and he gets up. “May I?” he asks, and he nudges his face into the direction of the bed. Timothée moves over, and Armie crawls into bed with him, before wrapping his arms around him. “You look terrible.”

  
“Thanks.”

  
“Are you sick?”

  
“I’m fine, Armie.”

  
“Have I done this to you?” Armie asks, and Timothée can hear the fear in his voice. “You’re the last person I want to hurt, I…”

  
“Have you told Liz?”

  
“Not yet.”

  
“Why?”

  
“She’s coming over tomorrow,” Armie says, as she carefully caresses Timothée’s back. “But Timmy, I…”

  
“No.”

  
“I miss you.”

  
“This has to stop,” Timothée whispers. “When I’m gone, you can all go back to the way you used to be. You can all…”

  
“When you’re gone?” Armie asks. “What are you… please tell me you… is that what this is about?”

  
“I just think…”

  
“We’re all better off without you?” Armie asks, unable to hide the pain in his voice. “Do you?”

  
“You and Liz…”

  
“No, you don’t get to do this. Don’t you dare… Screw you, Timmy.”

  
“Armie…”

  
“I told you, man, I need you,” Armie whispers. “I love you.”

  
“Stop saying that. I’m not…”

  
“No, I will not stop saying it. Not until you hear me, and you believe me. I love you, Timmy. I care about you, and I need you in my life. Do you think I would be better off if you… that is what you’ve been thinking about, isn’t it?” Armie asks, looking down at Timothée, who is still lying in his arms. Timothée nods, too ashamed to speak, and Armie sighs. “You’re wrong. What do you think it would do to your parents, huh? To Saoirse.”

  
“She hates me.”

  
“She’s disappointed, because she loves you. Henry, he loves you.”

  
“I…”

  
“We love you, man. Don’t you dare think that we’d be better off without you. Don’t you dare think that we don’t care.”  
Timothée doesn’t know what to say, and when Armie kisses the top of his head, he can feel himself starting to break down. But he feels like he has no right to, so he tries his very best to stay strong. To hide how much he is hurting.

“We are going to get you through this, okay?”


	10. Chapter 10

It’s late at night, and Timothée has decided to go over to Armie to thank him for their conversation this afternoon. But after he has snuck into the back yard, to not wake up Armie’s parents, and he is about to knock on the door of the townhouse, he realises that Armie is not alone.

  
“Sorry, they asked me to work an extra shift tomorrow,” Elizabeth says. “But what did you want to talk about?”

  
“I ehm… something has happened.”

  
“What?” Elizabeth laughs, but Timothée can hear that she is nervous, and he knows he should leave, because this isn’t something he shouldn’t be listening in on. But he can’t get himself to leave, he needs to know what she says.

  
Armie gets up, and he starts pacing up and down the room, unable to hide how scared he is, because he knows that this conversation can change everything.

  
“Armie, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

  
“Promise me you’ll let me explain, before you…”

  
“What have you done?”

  
“You know how sometimes, well…”

  
“Armie!” Elizabeth snaps, and Armie can see that she is getting frustrated. “Tell me, what have you done?”

  
“I ehm… me and this guy, we…”

  
“What?” Elizabeth asks. “If this is about drugs, I really don’t care.”

  
“No, not drugs,” Armie sighs. “Me and this guy, we did things… with each other…”

  
“You mean…?” Elizabeth asks, and she takes a deep breath, before nodding. “Right… so you… you experimented, with a guy? You could have told me that when we got together,” she laughs. “I don’t care, Armie, that is…”

  
“No!” Armie quickly says. “I don’t mean before we got together, not when I was younger. I mean, it happened recently.”

  
“How recently?”

  
“Over the last couple of months,” Armie admits.

  
“Months? That is not…! What the hell, Armie? I thought you meant you had kissed a guy once, or you… I don’t know, you let him jerk you off, but… months?”

  
“Yeah.” Armie nods, trying not to show how scared he is. “But I wasn’t experimenting, Liz, we were just…”

  
“What?” Elizabeth snaps. “You were just what?”

  
“It was just a bit of fun. It didn’t mean anything.”

  
“So you were willing to risk our relationship for a bit of fun? You cheated on me, for a bit fun?”

  
“I didn’t cheat on you.”

  
“What, so getting it on with someone else isn’t cheating? I can go over to Saoirse’s or Henry’s right now, fuck them, and you wouldn’t call that cheating?”

  
“I didn’t… that’s different.”

  
“How is that different?” Elizabeth asks, unable to hide her anger. “If you had told me that you were confused about being gay, or bi, or whatever, I could have put up with it. I could have looked the other way if you wanted to try and kiss a guy, maybe even try to flirt here and there, just to see what it’s like. But you did it behind my back! You lied to me!”

  
“Because it didn’t mean anything!”

  
“You’re lying to me, Armie!” Elizabeth snaps. “I know you are! You…,” she says, but then she stops, and Armie can see the tears forming in her eyes. “Oh my god… this guy, it’s Timothée, isn’t it?”

  
“Liz…”

  
“All the times you two were hanging out here on your own, you were… oh my god…”

  
“It wasn’t like that!”

  
“How far did it go?” Elizabeth asks. “Was it… was it just kissing, or… did you touch him? Did he touch you?”

  
“Don’t do this, please.”

  
“Did you like it, kissing him?”

  
“Liz!”

  
“Tell me, Armie!” Elizabeth snaps, as she steps up to him. “What did you do, huh?”

  
“I can’t.”

  
“Did you fuck him?”

  
Armie looks down at his feet, unable to face her, but by the shame on his face, she can tell what the answer is. So she pushes him, and he falls over, onto the ground.

  
“You’re disgusting.”

  
“Liz…”

  
“When?” she asks. “Huh? How long have you been laughing at me behind my back?”

  
“It doesn’t matter when it happened. It meant nothing.”

  
“Then why did you do it?”

  
“It was just…”

  
“A bit of fun?” Elizabeth asks, as Armie gets back up from off the floor. “Is that what you told him, when you were fucking him? Or did you lie to him too?”

  
“That’s not fair.”

  
“Not fair? You cheated on me!” Elizabeth yells. “With a guy!”

  
“I didn’t… it was just sex. I don’t care about him,” Armie hears himself say, but as soon as the words have left his mouth, he feels sick with guilt. “I mean…”

  
“I am such an idiot. Do you know how happy I was, when I saw how protective you were over him? I thought, how lucky am I, to have such a caring, wonderful boyfriend. I thought you saw him as your little brother, and you just wanted him to be okay, but…,” Elizabeth sits down on the couch, and she buries her face in her hands. “You were just fucking him behind my back.”

  
“Liz…”

  
“That look in your eyes, it wasn’t… you don’t care for him like a brother. You’re in love with him,” Elizabeth realises, and as soon as the words have left her mouth, it is as though Armie is frozen in his spot. “I should have seen it, but I was too caught up in my stupid…”

  
“I’m not.”

  
“Yeah, you are, Armie. Please don’t lie to me. I think you’ve hurt me enough already, don’t you think?”

  
“I want to be with you,” Armie tries, and Elizabeth looks up at him. “I love you. We can move on from this, I…”

  
“Are you gay?”

  
“No!”

  
“Are you?”

  
“No.”

  
“Armie?”

  
“I don’t know,” Armie finally admits, and Elizabeth nods.

  
“Did you even like me?”

  
“I love you,” Armie says, and he goes over to her, kneels down in front of her and takes her hands in his. “I just…”

  
“So this… it wasn’t a lie?”

  
“No. I promise.”

  
Armie wraps his arms around her, half expecting her to push him away, but she lets him, and it isn’t until he lets go of her, that he realises that she is crying.

  
“I am so sorry, Liz.”

  
“Me too,” Elizabeth says, and she gets up. “Just… I think it’s better if we don’t see each other for a while, okay?”

  
“But…”

  
“I have to go, Armie.”

  
Elizabeth storms out of the townhouse, not noticing Timothée, who is hidden behind one of the chairs. But as soon as she is gone, he gets up, and he goes into the townhouse, where he finds Armie on the bed, curled up into a ball, crying his eyes out.  
Timothée doesn’t say a word, he just gets into bed with him, and he cuddles up with him. And when Armie clings onto him for dear life, he kisses the top of his head, quietly stroking his hair, until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

* * *

“How long had you been there?”

  
“I heard everything,” Timothée admits. “I didn’t mean to, I thought…”

  
“I’m sorry, for what I said.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“When I said that I don’t care about you,” Armie explains. “You know that was a lie, don’t you?”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“Timmy. I didn’t mean it,” Armie says, “I was upset, and I just… as soon as I had said it, I felt horrible.”

  
“You were just trying to make her stay.”

  
“I guess.”

  
“You wanted her to stay, didn’t you?”

  
“I did,” Armie nods. “But now that she has dumped me, I feel… I’m not sure.”

  
“I thought you loved her?” Timothée asks, and Armie takes his hand, and starts tracing the lines on the inside with his finger. Timothée can’t help but smile, but when he realises that Armie isn’t answering his question, he looks up at him. “You are in love with her, aren’t you?”

  
“What if I’m in love with you?”

  
“Are you?”

  
“Would that be a bad thing?” Armie asks, his voice shaking with nerves.

  
“I don’t know,” Timothée admits. “Just the other week you still wanted to be with Liz, so…”

  
“Because I’m scared, Timmy. I have never… fuck! Yeah, I loved her, but it wasn’t… I knew it wasn’t going to last forever. We were just… it’s what you do when you’re seventeen, you meet someone, and even though you know that it isn’t going to last forever, you just…”

  
“I get what you’re saying,” Timothée says. “It was just a bit of fun?”

  
“Fuck you,” Armie laughs. “But yeah, relationships in high school, they’re not… how many of them actually last?”

  
“But you loved her.”

  
“Yeah. I guess,” Armie says. “I thought I did.”

  
“But you said…”

  
“I didn’t want to hurt her. And I think she’s great. It’s just that when I met you, I felt something that I have never felt before,” Armie admits. “Not just for a guy, but for anyone.”

  
“Armie…”

  
“No, Timmy, I don’t want to lie anymore.”

  
“What if Liz forgives you?”

  
“Then maybe we can be friends.”

  
“So we go back to…”

  
“No,” Armie laughs. “Me and her can be friends. I mean it, man, I am in love with you, and I have tried to tell myself that I’m not, that I’m straight, that this is just… I even thought maybe I did just want to experiment, that I… maybe I just wanted to fuck around,” he explains. “But I don’t want to be with anyone else, Timmy. I don’t want to do what we do, with anyone else, I don’t… I want to be with you, just you.”

  
“Oh…”

  
“Fuck, I’ve said too much.”

  
Armie sees the uncomfortable look on his friend’s face, and he sighs. He lets go of his hand, and he rolls onto his side, to face him.

  
“Look, man, in all this time, you haven’t told me how you feel. I just assumed you liked me, but if you want us to just be friends, I’m okay with that.”

“Are you?”

  
“No,” Armie laughs, a shy smile on his face. “But I’ll have to be.”

  
“I just don’t want to get hurt,” Timothée admits. “I’ve never done this before. And I’m scared you’re going to wake up one day soon, and realise that you want to go back to Liz, that I’m just…”

  
“I don’t want to be with her.”

  
“You say that now, but…”

  
“Okay,” Armie says. “Then we’ll just be friends. We’ll both go off to college, I’ll meet someone, you’ll meet someone, I’ll try not to hate them… That’s fine too.”

  
Armie tries to keep a straight face, but when he sees the hurt look on Timothée’s face, he can’t help but laugh.

  
“You…?”

  
“No, I didn’t mean it!”

  
“Oh…”

  
“I want to be with you, Timmy, no one else. It took me a while to realise, or, you know, face up to it, but…”

  
“If we are going to do this, I don’t want to be a secret.”

  
“A secret?”

  
“Because you want to be straight,” Timothée says, and Armie rolls his eyes.

  
“Come on,” he says, and he gets out of bed. Timothée has a confused look on his face, so Armie grabs his hand, and he drags him out of bed. “No more secrets,” he says, before leading him out of the townhouse, through the backyard, into the house, still holding his hand.

  
“Armie, good…,” his mother begins, but when she realises Timothée is with him, she stops talking.

  
“Where’s dad?”

  
“I’m here,” his father says, and he walks into the kitchen. But he notices Armie holding Timothée’s hand, and he sighs, before sitting down.

  
“Mom, dad, I’ve got something I want to tell you.”

  
“I see,” his mother says, a small smile on her face, as she glances down at their hands.

  
“Liz and I, we’ve broken up. She ehm… she’s great, but… I have fallen in love with Timmy,” Armie says, trying to hide his nerves, but his voice is shaking, and Timothée can’t help but smile when he feels how clammy his hand is getting. “I’ve been in love with him for months,” Armie blurts out. “Since we met, actually.”

  
“Well, that’s…,” his mother begins, but then she shakes her head, smiling. “I already knew, Armie.”

  
“You did?”

  
“She’s your mom,” Timothée laughs. “She’s supposed to know.”

  
“Well, I’m happy for you. Besides, I never liked that Elizabeth anyway.”

  
“Mom!”

  
“What?” his mother laughs. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but…”

  
“She is,” Armie says, but his mother just shrugs her shoulders.

  
“So, is he your boyfriend now?” his father asks, and Armie looks at Timothée, an uncertain look on his face. But when he sees the shy smile on his face, he nods.

  
“Yeah, he is.”

  
“And you’ve told Elizabeth?”

  
“Yeah, she knows,” Armie says, and he gives Timothée’s hand a squeeze. “No more lies.”

  
But when Timothée hears him say the words, he feels sick with guilt. Because how can he face him after this, when he has been keeping something from him for weeks?


	11. Chapter 11

Timothée and Armie are on the couch in the townhouse, and they have been making out for a while, but Armie can tell that Timothée isn’t into it. He seems distant, and even as he slides his hand into Armie’s pants, it’s like he is doing it on automatic pilot. So Armie stops him, and he moves away from him.

  
“What’s going on?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“Timmy.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Timothée says, and he pulls his knees up to his chest. “I’m just not in the mood today.”

  
“Then tell me. I don’t want you to anything you don’t want to do,” Armie says, and he puts a hand on his knee, and gives it a squeeze. “Look at me, what’s wrong?”

  
“I’m just having a bad day.”

  
“And you don’t want to talk about it?” Armie asks, but Timothée just sighs. So Armie takes his hand, and he rests his head on his shoulder. “Then I’m just going to sit here with you, okay?”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Timmy.”

* * *

Timothée knows he should be happy, because he has a family who loves him, he has just graduated from high school, he finally has friends who care about him, even Elizabeth had texted him that she just needs time, and Armie is still everything he could have ever hoped for in both a friend and a boyfriend. He has everything he had ever wished for, and still, he can’t get himself to get up out of bed anymore, because it feels like there is no point. He can’t stop crying, because even though he keeps on telling himself how great everything his, the voice inside his head keeps telling him that he doesn’t deserve any of it. That soon enough, everyone will realise that he isn’t worth any of it, that they can do better.

  
He is in bed, and has been for days. He hasn’t even showered or brushed his teeth, and he has only eaten because his mother had forced him to, and had refused to leave his room until he would eat. But even in that, he doesn’t see the point anymore.  
But when the door opens, and Armie walks in, his heart skips a beat, and he actually catches a glimpse of excitement inside himself. Of happiness. Of love.

  
“How did it get this bad, huh?” Armie whispers, as he sits down on the side of his bed. He tries to brush a curl out of Timothée’s face, but Timothée pulls back, an embarrassed look on his face.

  
“I haven’t showered in days.”

  
“You think I care about that? Timmy, I don’t care about your hair, or that you…”

  
“What?”

  
“You stink,” Armie laughs, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “I’m worried about you. Talk to me.”

  
“I can’t.”

  
“Then talk to your parents, a therapist. Someone. You can’t…”

  
“I told you,” Timothée snaps. “This is it. I’m not… I’m not like you, I’m not like… I’m not like Liz. I’m never going to be more fun this. I’m just…”

  
“This is something you are going to get through,” Armie says, a determined look on his face. “And you can shout at me, you can try to push me away, or scare me off, but… that’s not you, man, that’s the depression talking.”

  
“It’s never going to get any better than this,” Timothée says. “This is it, Armie.”

  
Armie ignores him, and he just leans forward, and rests his forehead against Timothée’s.

  
“Armie…”

  
“I love you, and you are going to get through this.”

  
“But…”

  
“First you are going to take a shower, then we are going to go for a walk,” Armie says, ignoring him, his head still resting against Timothée’s. “And if you’re still not sick of me after that, then I want to take you out for dinner.”

  
“I can’t.”

  
“Yeah, you can.”

* * *

“Thank you, for today,” Timothée says, when they are back in his room, later that day. “I’m sorry, about…”

  
“Timmy.”

  
“You didn’t choose to…”

  
“Stop it. Do you think I regret choosing to be with you?” Armie asks, but when Timothée looks away, he sighs. “I don’t. No, I don’t like seeing you like this, but that’s because I’m worried about you, man. I’m scared that one day your mom is going to call me to tell me that you’ve tried to…”

  
“You still can’t say it.”

  
“No,” Armie admits. “I can’t. Because the thought of you not wanting to be here anymore, of…,” he says, but his voice breaks, and Timothée realises that he is struggling to fight his tears. “Knowing that you’ve tried it once already…”

  
“I don’t want to be like this.”

  
“I know,” Armie says, and he grabs his hand. “and I know that this just a… fuck! I have never had to deal with any of this, man, and I am trying my best to get things right, but…”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“No, I am,” Armie says, and he finally looks up at his boyfriend. “For not…”

  
“You have done nothing wrong.”

  
“If I hadn’t messed you about, then…”

  
“You haven’t.”

  
“I lied to myself for weeks, Timmy, telling myself that I wanted to be with Liz, because I was scared. If I had just…”

  
“This has nothing to do with you,” Timothée reassures him, but Armie sighs, a guilty look on his face. “There’s just something wrong with me.”

  
“There is nothing wrong with you, don’t say that. But please, talk to me, okay? You can’t bottle things up, and then one day…”

  
“I know.”

  
“I can’t lose you.”

* * *

“You’ve finally decided to join us then?” Henry asks, as Timothée walks into the backyard. Timothée is still feeling a little shaky, but after his conversation with Armie, he knows he can’t stay in bed forever.

  
“Yeah, I ehm…”

  
“Have you been ill? You look like…”

  
“Leave him alone,” Armie says, and he gets up, and gives his boyfriend a big hug. “I’m glad you’re here, man. I’m proud of you.”

  
“I’m a little…”

  
“I know, but you’re okay,” Armie whispers, before letting go of him, and leading him over to the edge of the pool, where they sit down with Henry.

  
“So… Armie told me you two have made it official.”

  
“Oh…”

  
“That’s news to you?” Henry laughs. “You hadn’t told him?” he asks, as he looks at Armie.

  
“Oh, he definitely knows,” Armie laughs.

  
“Yeah, we’re… yeah…”

  
“So now that you have a boyfriend,” Henry says. “Does that mean that we’ll be seeing you at Pride?”

  
“What are you asking?”

  
“You know…”

  
“Are you asking me if I’m gay?” Armie laughs, and even though he has just been caught out in something, Henry shrugs, and he still has his arrogant grin on his face. “Why?”

  
“Well…”

  
“Do you want to know if I’m into you?” Armie laughs, and he playfully nudges his friend in the arm. “Is that it?”

  
“I mean…,” Henry laughs, and Timothée can finally feel himself starting to relax. He had been so worried to come out here, worried that Henry would be upset with him, worried that their friendship would be over. But for the first time in a long time, he finally feels like things might actually be okay.

  
“The only person I am into is Timmy,” Armie says, and Henry fakes a shocked look.

  
“What do you mean you’re not… So you’ve never…”

  
“Never,” Armie laughs. “So what, you think that just because I’m gay, I must be into you?”

  
“How can you…?” Henry laughs. “Seriously, never?”

  
“You just don’t do it for me, man,” Armie says, and Timothée can see that he is trying to keep a straight face. But when Henry grabs his face, he starts laughing. “What are…”

  
Henry kisses Armie, and he actually gets so into it, that Timothée can’t keep himself from laughing, because he can tell that all Armie wants to do is pull away, but Henry is still holding onto his face.

  
“How about now?” Henry asks.

  
“I’m telling you, man,” Armie laughs. “You don’t do it for me. You’re a good kisser though, I’ll give you that.”

  
“But…”

  
“You can’t have them all.” Timothée shrugs, before grabbing Armie’s hand. “So let me have this one? I really like him.”

  
“Fine. But if you hurt him…”

  
“Henry! Back off!”

  
“It’s a joke.” Henry gets up, rolling his eyes. “Timothée knows I’ve got his back, as well as yours, so…”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“That’s between me and him,” Henry says, and he winks, before disappearing into the townhouse to go and grab a joint.

  
“What is he talking about?”

  
“We had a conversation in Edinburgh,” Timothée explains. “about you and me. He didn’t tell me to back off, or… he was trying to look out for me, so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yeah.” Timothée can’t help but smile, remembering the conversation, because it had made him feel like Henry actually cared about him, about what would happen to him.

  
“I don’t have to be jealous of…”

  
“Fuck off,” Timothée laughs, and he pushes Armie away. “You know it’s not like that. Besides, you’re the one who made out with him.”

  
“Don’t ever remind me of that!”

  
“Why? He’s cute, isn’t he?” Timothée asks, trying to keep a straight face, and for a moment, Armie believes him. But then he realises, and he shakes his head, smiling to himself.

  
“Now you’re just messing with me.”

  
“Maybe…”

  
“I only have eyes for you, Timmy,” Armie whispers, before kissing his boyfriend, and wrapping his arms around his waist.  
“Oh, get a room, you two!”

* * *

“You seem happier today.”

  
“Yeah…,” Timothée says, as he sits down on the couch, joining his mother. “Mom, can’t we stay?”

  
“You know we can’t. We were always going to have to move after you graduated.”

  
“I know…”

  
“You’ll find a way to make it work, honey. You can go visit him, or…”

  
“He thinks I’m going to college,” Timothée admits, and his mother sighs. “I didn’t tell him that, but… he just assumed, because they’re all going, and…”

  
“You were ashamed to tell him that we’re not like them?”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“I understand,” his mother says. “But you can’t lie to him. What did he say, when you told him we’re moving?”

  
“I haven’t told him,” Timothée admits, and when he sees the disappointed look on his mother’s face, the guilt inside of him only grows worse. Only this afternoon, he had felt like things were going to be okay, but he knows that they won’t be.

Because he has been lying to Armie for weeks, for months now. He has let him believe that he is going to college, he has kept from him that they’ll be moving away in only a matter of days.

  
“Tim…”

  
“I’m scared to lose him, mom. What if he’ll meet someone else when I’m away?”

  
“If he loves you, he won’t care about anyone else,” his mother says. “You can live here, a hundred miles away, on the other side of the world… it won’t matter. But if you keep things from him…”

  
“I know.”

  
“Tell him.”

* * *

Armie steps up to Timothée, the minute he walks into the townhouse, and he starts kissing him, his hands already sliding underneath his t-shirt, wanting to touch him, to feel his skin. But Timothée stops him, and he steps away from him, a troubled look on his face.

  
“I’m so sorry, man, I thought… shit, I…”

  
“No,” Timothée quickly says. “it’s… I need to tell you something.”

  
“What’s wrong?”

  
“Not wrong, just… can we sit down?”

  
“Of course,” Armie says, and they make their way over to the couch. “Tell me.”

  
“When you were talking about college…”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I’m not going to college.”

  
“But you said…”

  
“No, you assumed,” Timothée says, a guilty look on his face. “and I let you.”

  
“Why?”

  
“Because I’ve told you so many times, Armie, I’m not like you and your friends.”

  
“They’re your friends too, Timmy,” Armie says, but Timothée just sighs. “You could have told me. I don’t care. So what, you’re…”

  
“You don’t get it. I’m not going to college, because we can’t afford it. We’re not rich like you guys,” Timothée explains. “We didn’t move here for my dad’s work. We moved here because this was the only school that would take me on such short notice. So my mom quit her job, my dad got a transfer… but we had to leave everything behind.”

  
“But you live…”

  
“I know, Armie!” Timothée snaps. “A guy at my dad’s work heard about what I did, why we had to move, and he felt sorry for us, so he did us a favour, he made sure we had a house while I was still in school, but now that I’ve graduated…”

  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”

  
“Because look around you! You’re rich, Armie. Your friends are rich. None of you ever have to think about money, about whether you can afford something. Edinburgh? That cost me all my savings!”

  
“But Henry…”

  
“I know he paid for the trip, but I had to keep up with you guys, with buying rounds, going out to dinner, going places… I have nothing, Armie,” Timothée spits out, and he knows it isn’t fair that he is yelling at him, but he is angry. Angry that Armie hasn’t seen it before, that he hasn’t realised. “I can’t go to college, because I have to work, to help my parents out.”

  
“I can help out,” Armie offers, and he tries to take his boyfriend’s hand, but Timothée moves away from him, still angry. “Please, Timmy, I…”

  
“I don’t need your help. I need…”

  
“Are you going to find a job?”

  
“Yeah. But we ehm… we have to move out of the house,” Timothée explains.

  
“When?”

  
“Next week.”

  
“Next week? What the… and you’re telling me now?” Armie asks. “Where are you moving to?”

  
“It doesn’t matter.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Because this is never going to work, Armie. You’re going to go to college, you’ll meet new people…,” Timothée begins, but Armie grabs his arm, and for a moment, he feels like he is about to be beaten again. But then he realises that there is fear in Armie’s eyes. Pain.

  
“Don’t do this, please.”

  
“You should ask Liz…”

  
“Liz?” Armie asks, not even giving Timothée a chance to finish. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I want Liz? I am in love with you, Timmy, not Liz! I don’t care if we don’t live in the same town! I’ll come and visit you, or…”

  
“Don’t bother, Armie.”

  
“What do you…”

  
“Forgot it,” Timothée says, and he releases himself from his boyfriend’s grip. “Just forget it, okay?” he says, and he storms out of the townhouse.

  
“Timmy?” Armie asks, as he follows him, but Timothée doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back. “Please, don’t do this!”


	12. Chapter 12

It has been almost two months since Armie has last seen Timothée, but when he looks through the window of the diner, and he sees his ex-boyfriend standing there, a big smile on his face, happily chatting away to a customer, he can’t help but smile, and it feels like no time has passed at all.

  
But he knows that things have changed. Everything has changed.

  
He wonders if he should go in, or if he should let Timothée be, because he looks so happy, so relaxed. Why risk upsetting him again?

  
But Armie knows that he can’t leave, because they can’t leave things as they are. If anything, they need to give it the ending it deserves, and get a chance to say their goodbyes.

  
So he goes into the diner, and it takes a moment for Timothée to notice him, but when he does, the smile leaves his face, and he looks like he has seen a ghost.

  
“Armie? What are you doing here?”

  
“I’m not a stalker. I promise,” Armie says, trying to make a joke, trying to make light of the situation, but the truth is that he is shaking with nerves.

  
“How did you find me?”

  
“Your mom.”

  
“She…”

  
“Do you have a minute to talk?” Armie asks, and Timothée looks over his shoulder, a hesitant look on his face. “After work then?”

  
“I’m sorry, I…”

  
“Is this your friend?” a man asks, as he comes up to them, and Timothée nods. “Ah, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Luca!” the man with a strong Italian accent says, and he steps up to Armie and gives him two kisses on the cheeks.

  
“I’m sorry, Luca,” Timothée says. “I was just…”

  
“Not at all, you take a break, sit down! I’ll bring you something to eat,” Luca says, and he flashes a big smile before walking off.

  
“Is he your boss?”

  
“Yeah, he’s a bit…,” Timothée begins, his face turning red, clearly uncomfortable with this whole situation. “He’s great.”

  
“So, are you okay to talk?” Armie asks, and his ex-boyfriend nods, before leading him over to a table. They sit down, and Armie sighs, before looking around him. “Do you remember, the first time we met?”

  
“Of course.”

  
“We went to a diner that day,” Armie remembers. “You…”

  
“You make it sound like it was years ago,” Timothée laughs. “It was only half a year ago.”

  
“I know,” Armie says, a shy smile on his face. “But I just remembered, when we sat down. I ehm…”

  
“Why are you here?”

  
“I miss you,” Armie admits. “and I am so sorry for not coming sooner, but…”

  
“I didn’t want you here,” Timothée says, and his voice is so cold, that Armie gets chills all over. “I told you, Armie, you need to forget about what happened, and…”

  
“Move on?” Armie asks, and Timothée nods, a guilty look on his face.

  
“I can’t. I told you, I love you, man. I came to your place, to say goodbye, to tell you that we would find a way to make it work. But you had already moved, you…”

  
“I lied,” Timothée admits. “We moved, the day after I told you. Not the next week.”

  
“Why?”

  
“Because I knew you’d come.”

  
“What happened to you? You’re so… have I done something wrong? Have I… how can I make it up to you? Please tell me, because…,” Armie tries, but Timothée looks away, out of the window, a blank stare on his face. That’s when it hits Armie that none of this is real. He is trying hard to keep up an act, to push him away again. “Timmy, stop doing this.”

  
“I’m not doing anything. You came here, even though I already told you that we’re…”

  
“Stop it,” Armie warns him. “Don’t do this. I know you, and this is just a load of…,” he begins, and he can feel himself getting frustrated, but when Luca comes up to them with plates full of food, he keeps quiet, and he forces himself to show the man a grateful smile.

  
“Thanks, Luca,” Timothée says, and the man lingers at their table for a moment, before leaving again.

  
“I am sorry that it took me two months to come here,” Armie says. “But I was so angry that you had left without telling me,” he admits. “I was hurt, because I thought that what we had was real. The fact that you could just pack up and leave, without even saying goodbye to me, after all that we’d just been through, that hurt, okay? So yeah, I was angry with you.”

  
“I…,” Timothée tries, still trying to cling onto his act, but Armie can see that he is getting through to him, slowly but surely.

  
“And you know what? I love college, I love my new friends, and life is great, it is,” Armie admits. “but when something happens, I want to pick up the phone and tell you about it. When we’re out, all I want to do is go home and be with you, because none of it makes me feel… I don’t even know, man,” he sighs. “I need you, Timmy. I don’t care that you live here, I can come and visit you, or you can come with me when I go home. We can…”

  
“I told you…”

  
“You still think you’re not good enough for me,” Armie realises, but Timothée avoids his gaze, and he stares down at the plate of food in front of him. “You have no idea, do you? How many times do I need to tell you I love you, before you believe me?”  
“Don’t, please,” Timothée mumbles, nothing left of his cold exterior, the vulnerable boy Armie had met months ago, now sitting in front of him again.

  
“I don’t want anyone else, Timmy. I want to be with you, and I’m not going to give up until you…”

  
“You know how that sounds, right?” Timothée says, as he looks up at him, a shy smile on his face.

  
“You know what I mean,” Armie laughs, but then he reaches out over the table, and he grabs Timothée’s hand. “I care too much to let you push me away.”

* * *

Armie had hung around at the diner until Timothée had finished work, and they’re now on their way home. Armie is still a little nervous, and uncertain where they stand, but by the shy smile on Timothée’s face, he can tell that he isn’t trying to keep up an act anymore. And that gives Armie hope that maybe, just maybe, he will let him back in again.

  
“I ehm…”

  
“What?”

  
“Your mom told me she thought I had dumped you, that that’s why I wasn’t around anymore.”

  
“I was scared she would call you, if I told her the truth,” Timothée admits. “I didn’t want her to bother you, not when you were just leaving for college, and starting a new life, you know? I didn’t want you to be dragged back into all of this.”

  
“All of this?”

  
“You know what I mean. You don’t need all of my… shit, in your life.”

  
“Yeah, I do,” Armie says, and he stops walking, and makes Timothée face him. “I need all of it. Well, maybe not so much the bad,” he laughs, and he places his hands on the sides of Timothée’s neck, and he stares straight into his eyes. “But I will take it, okay? All of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. All of it,” he repeats, before pressing his lips against Timothée’s and kissing him.

  
But when he steps back, he sees an uncomfortable look on his face, and he realises what he has just done. They haven’t even discussed where they stand yet, and here he is, kissing him already.

  
“Shit, I’m so sorry, man, I didn’t think. I was just…”

  
“It’s fine,” Timothée laughs, his face now a dark shade of red. “It’s just… It’s more, it’s very public,” Timothée admits. “It made me a little…”

  
“Shit,” Armie says. “You were reminded of your old school, of what they did to you…”

  
“Yeah. I get a little nervous when it comes to being out in public,” Timothée explains. “I’m sorry.”

  
“No, I get it. I’m sorry, man. It’s…”

  
“Fine,” Timothée says, and he grabs Armie’s hand, a nervous look on his face. He looks down at their hands, and Armie can tell that he is still a little hesitant, but determined to do this anyway. “Is this okay?”

  
“Yeah,” Armie whispers, as he squeezes his hand tight. “This is okay.”

  
They walk on, and Armie is trying to keep his eyes on the sidewalk, trying not to say anything, trying not to mess up again. But when he notices the blush on Timothée’s face, and his smile growing, he just has to ask.

“What?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“What?” Armie laughs. “Did I do something?”

  
“I was just thinking,” Timothée admits. “You would have never kissed me in public, just a few months ago.”

  
“Because I had a girlfriend!”

  
“Because you were straight,” Timothée laughs. “Because we were…”

  
“Just having a bit of fun?” Armie suggests, and he nudges him in the arm. “Huh?”

  
“Exactly.”

  
“I should’ve been honest right from the start,” Armie sighs. “But I was scared, and in denial. You know it was always more than that, right? I was never ‘just’ anything.”

  
“I know.”

  
“I ehm… I’ve actually been out to my friends at college, right from the start,” Armie says, and Timothée looks up at him with a proud smile on his face. “and I told them about you.”

  
“Why?”

“Why?” Armie laughs. “Because I’m in love with you? Because I…”

  
“I’m sorry,” Timothée interrupts, and Armie looks at him with a confused look on his face. “For leaving the way I did, for pushing you away. Again.”

  
“I’m starting to get used to it.” Armie shrugs, but Timothée can tell that he is only teasing him, and he can’t help but smile.

“I really am sorry though.”

  
“I know why you do it, so… I know you don’t do it because you don’t love me, you just… those guys, they have messed you up. I’m not saying you’re messed up, but…”

  
“I know.”

  
“They have made you feel like you’re not good enough, like you’re not worthy, or… But that will change, Timmy,” Armie says. “One day you will see that they were wrong, that you’re not…”

  
“Thank you,” Timothée quickly says, hoping that Armie will stop talking, because the words are making him feel sick to his stomach. Armie’s kindness, after what he has done to him, after how he has hurt him, again, it makes him feel horrible. But Armie sees right through it, and he sighs.

  
“I love you.”

  
“Armie…”

  
“I’m not going to stop telling you. One day you will believe me. I know you will.”

* * *

“I don’t want to go,” Armie whispers, as he nuzzles his face into the crook of Timothée’s neck. He has been staying with Timothée and his parents for a few days, but if he stays any longer, he will start missing classes, and Timothée will not let that happen.

  
“You can come back in a couple of weeks, can’t you?” Timothée suggests, but his boyfriend ignores him, and he starts kissing his neck. “Armie… stop it, you’ll still have to go!”

  
“Spoilsport,” Armie mumbles, before disappearing underneath the covers. Timothée can feel him kissing his chest, before moving down to his stomach, all the way down to the inside of his thighs, where he places soft, careful kisses. Timothée knows that he is trying to drag this out for as long as possible, that he is teasing him, and he can’t help but smile, because Armie is supposed to leave in less than an hour.

  
“Armie...,” Timothée begins, but when Armie takes his dick into his mouth, he is unable to say another word. Armie has never done this to him before, no one has, and he can feel himself struggling to keep still, and to keep quiet. But then Armie throws the covers off him, and he sits up.

  
“Are you okay?” he laughs. “You have got to relax, man.”

  
Timothée just glares at him, and Armie shakes his head, smiling, before leaning down to kiss him.

  
“Do you want me to stop?”

  
“No,” Timothée mumbles, his face turning an even darker shade of red.

  
“I didn’t think so,” Armie laughs. “Relax, just breathe,” he says, before getting back to it. Timothée closes his eyes, and he tries to relax, to listen to what Armie has said, to just breathe. But when he hears himself moaning with pleasure, his eyes shoot open, and he stares straight into Armie’s eyes, who is trying really hard not to laugh.

  
“Do you think they heard?”

  
“Probably.”

  
“Shit!”

  
“Don’t worry, man. Do you really think they care?” Armie asks. “They let me stay in your room, even though they know that we’re…”

  
“Yeah, but they probably think that we’re…”

  
“That we’re what?” Armie laughs. “That we’re not having sex?”

  
“I don’t know…”

  
“Fine, we’ll do this another time then,” Armie says, and he wants to get out of bed. But when he looks back at Timothée, he sees the uncomfortable look on his face, and he can’t help but smile. “No? You want me to continue?”

“You are such a…”

  
“I can go,” Armie says, teasing him, and he glances down at his dick. “Or I can… you know… Your call.” He shrugs his shoulders, but they both know where this is going, and he flashes a big grin.

* * *

Timothée is trying his best to keep a straight face when he and Armie join his parents in the kitchen for breakfast. But his emotions are raging inside of him, with Armie leaving, and knowing he might not see him again for weeks, and after what has just happened, he feels like laughing, running around the room, screaming and crying, all at the same time.

  
But he keeps quiet, as he sits down at the table, Armie sitting down next to him, and as he pours himself a bowl of cereal, he tries to keep his eyes focussed on that, still a little nervous on whether his parents have heard him and Armie or not.

  
“So…,” his mother begins, and he and Armie look up at her. But when he sees the knowing smile on her face, he quickly looks down again. But Armie just bursts into laughter, and no matter how embarrassed he is, hearing his laughter, and his parents joining in, it just makes him laugh. It doesn’t make him want to run away, or hide, it simply makes him laugh. And for the first time in months, a part of him believes that things might actually turn out okay.


	13. Chapter 13

Armie steps into the diner, glad to be out of the rain. He is drenched to the bone, and all he wants is a hot coffee, but it’s busy at the diner, and Timothée is taking a table’s order, too busy to notice Armie. So Armie wants to quietly leave again, but before he can leave, Luca comes up to him, a big smile on his face.

  
“Armie!” he says, and he kisses him on the cheeks. “Sit down! What can I get you?”

  
“Oh, ehm…”

  
“Sit down!” Luca repeats, and before Armie can even tell him that a coffee would be great, he has already walked off. Armie can’t help but laugh, as he takes the last table, Timothée still too busy to notice him. He takes his phone out of his pocket, and he checks his messages, not having had a chance to reply to them since last night.

  
But when he feels a hand on his arm, he looks up, and he finds Timothée looking down at him, a shy smile on his face.

  
“What are you doing here? I thought…”

  
“I thought I’d come pick you up from work.”

  
“I can’t leave for another…,” Timothée begins, but Luca appears behind him with two mugs of steaming hot cocoa, and he pushes past him, to get to the table.

  
“He came all the way here for you,” Luca says. “So you have your cocoa, then you go home and spend the rest of the day with him.”

  
“But it’s…”

  
“We’ll manage, Timmy!” Luca says, and Armie can’t help but smile when he hears him call Timothée ‘Timmy’, because up until now, no one but him had called him that. “You spend the day with your boyfriend!”

  
“Are you sure?”

  
“Yes!” Luca rolls his eyes, before shaking his head in frustration and walking off.

  
“Timmy?” Armie laughs, as Timothée joins him at the table. “I thought only I called you that?”

  
“Oh, he…”

  
“ _Teemy_ ,” Armie laughs, mimicking Luca’s Italian accent, making Timothée blush. “Did you tell him we’re…”

  
“No!”

  
“He just called me your boyfriend.”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée mumbles, staring down at his cocoa. “But I didn’t tell him that, he just…”

  
“Am I?”

  
“Do you want to be?”

  
“Do I?” Armie laughs. “For fuck sake!”

  
Armie reaches out, and he wants to grab Timothée’s hand, but he remembers that being out in public makes him nervous, and with this being his place of work, and there being so many people, he quickly pulls back, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. But Timothée grabs hold of his hand, and he holds tight.

  
“I want to do it right this time,” Timothée says, his voice shaking. “But I’m scared I’ll mess it up again, when I’m…”

  
“I know,” Armie says, and he flashes a small smile. “It took me a while to figure you out, but I think I’ve got you figured out now, so…”

  
“Yeah?” Timothée asks, a shy look on his face, and Armie can tell that he is embarrassed, but grateful that Armie is still there.

  
“Yeah, and even if one of us messes up again… we’ll keep trying, okay?” Armie whispers, making sure that no one around can hear them. “Because we’ll have to get it right some time.”

  
“If I mess up again, you mean.”

  
“Timmy!” Armie sighs, and he squeezes his hand. “Don’t go there again.”

  
“I just don’t want to hurt you again.”

  
“Then don’t hurt me.” Armie shrugs, and Timothée opens his mouth to speak, but Armie continues. “If you feel like things are getting bad, you talk to me. You don’t push me away. We’re in this together, okay? I’m your boyfriend, life-partner, whatever the hell you want to call it,” he laughs, Timothée’s face turning a dark shade of red. “And by now you should know that I’ll keep coming back anyway, so…”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“So are we doing this?”

  
“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?”

  
“For fuck sake, Timmy! Yes!” Armie laughs. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve just said?”

  
“I know, but…”

  
“I know you’re scared. But this time it’s different.”

* * *

Timothée and Armie are in the park, but Armie’s phone keeps buzzing, and he can tell that it is making Timothée nervous.

  
“Do you think I’ve been seeing someone else?” he asks, but Timothée just avoids his gaze, a guilty look on his face. “It’s Henry.”

  
“Henry?”

  
“I’ve not been seeing Henry,” Armie laughs. “But the texts, it’s Henry. There’s a Halloween party, and he’s trying to get us in. I’ll show you the texts, if it’ll make you feel better.”

  
“I’m sorry, I don’t…”

  
“It’s fine,” Armie sighs.

  
“I trust you.”

  
“I haven’t been with anyone else. That’s another reason why I told everyone about you, I wanted to make sure they knew I was taken, even if… even when we weren’t together, I didn’t want anyone else to try anything. Because I only wanted to be with you,” Armie explains, but Timothée is still avoiding his gaze. “You don’t believe me?”

  
“We didn’t see each other for months, so…”

  
“And what, you think I can’t go without sex for two months?” Armie laughs. “Huh?”

  
“Well…”

  
“Fuck you!” he laughs, and he wraps his arms around his boyfriend and pulls him closer. “Maybe not when it’s with you, but I swear that I haven’t been with anyone else. Not even a kiss.”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Yeah, well, you should be!”

  
“I didn’t mean…”

  
“Yeah, you did,” Armie laughs, before kissing the top of his head, and letting go of him. “You thought I’d been fucking around. What do you take me for?”

  
“I’m sorry…”

  
“You can make it up to me later.”

* * *

“Are you sure they’re okay with me being there?”

  
“Of course.”

  
“What about Liz?” Timothée asks, and Armie can see that he is shaking with nerves. He had been okay when they had left, but now that they are getting closer to the Halloween party, closer to seeing Elizabeth and Saoirse again, he is getting more and more nervous by the second.

  
“It has been months, I spoke to Saoirse last week, and she…”

  
“You spoke to Saoirse?”

  
“Yeah, she really misses you,” Armie sighs. “Why didn’t you text her back?”

  
“Because I thought she was still upset with me, after…”

  
“I’m telling you, man, they don’t care about that anymore. She has moved on, Liz has moved on… they want you there, okay? I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me if I thought there’d be any trouble.”

  
“Do you think I should apologise to Liz?”

  
“For stealing me from her?” Armie asks, “For giving me a blowjob, when she was in the tent next to ours, for…,” he continues, trying to keep a straight face, but when Timothée hits him in the arm, he can’t help but laugh. “Relax!”

  
“I hate you.”

* * *

“Oi, Chalamet, you bastard!”

  
Timothée is only just getting out of the car, but when he hears Saoirse yelling at him, all he wants to do is get back in. But he hears her coming up to him, and it’s too late to run. And when she jumps into his arms, nearly knocking him over, he can’t help but laugh.

  
“I’ve missed you!”

  
“I…”

  
“Why didn’t you text me back?” Saoirse asks, her arms still around him. “I had to hear from Armie that you moved away. What were you thinking?”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Yeah, well… just don’t do it again. We’ve missed you!” she says, before kissing him on the cheek, and letting go of him. “You look great though. Both of you! Come on, let’s go in,” she says, and she turns around to leave. Timothée is about to follow her, but Armie holds him back, and waits until Saoirse is out of ear-shot.

  
“Are you okay?”

  
“Mhm.”

  
“Are you sure?” Armie asks, and his boyfriend nods, a nervous look on his face. “Tell me if you need to leave, okay? Or if you need some fresh air, or…”

  
“I’m fine.” Timothée flashes a small, but grateful smile, before giving him a quick kiss. “But thank you.”

  
They go in, and when Timothée sees Elizabeth on the dance floor, dancing like she doesn’t have a care in the world, he feels a strange sense of relief. The last time he had seen her, was when she had stormed past him, out of the townhouse. She had been crying her eyes out, and whenever he had thought of her, that was the only image he could think of. He could only think of how he had caused that upset, how he had broken her heart. And even though Armie had told him that it had been him who had done that, not Timothée, it hadn’t taken away the guilt. But seeing Elizabeth like this, like she had been when they had met, makes Timothée feel like she is actually okay, like he hasn’t ruined her life after all.

  
“I told you, she’s okay,” Armie whispers into his ear, before wrapping his arms around his waist. “Do you want to go to talk to her?”

  
“Not yet.”

  
“Do you want to dance?”

  
Timothée nods, but he looks around him, and Armie can see the nervous look in his eyes. So he lets go of him, and he takes a step back.

  
“Those guys aren’t here, Timmy.”

  
“I know…”

  
“Want me to back off tonight? You can dance with Saoirse,” Armie suggests. “I’ll dance with Henry,” he adds, and Timothée can’t help but laugh. “I don’t care, man. If you’re not ready for all this, then…”

  
“I am,” Timothée quickly says, a determined look on his face. “It was just… I am,” he repeats, and he steps up to Armie, their bodies now pressed against each other. “I love you,” he says, but when he sees the look of shock on his boyfriend’s face, he feels anything but determined anymore. “What? Have I…”

  
“You’ve never said that before.”

  
“I haven’t?”

  
“No,” Armie says, a shy smile on his face. “I didn’t think you…”

  
“I do,” Timothée says, and he brings his hand up to the side of Armie’s neck, before kissing him. And even though there are dozens of people standing around them, dozens of strangers, and they can all see them, he doesn’t feel fear. Because he knows that he isn’t alone anymore, he knows that Armie is with him. No matter what.

* * *

“So… there’s no easy way to do this, is there?” Elizabeth asks, an uncomfortable look on her face. She and Timothée have sat down in Armie’s car, so they can have a quiet chat, without anyone listening in, or interrupting.

  
“I am so sorry, Elizabeth, I…”

  
“I’m still Liz,” Elizabeth says, and she grabs his hand and squeezes it tight. “I… yeah, I was angry with you for a while, but if I can forgive Armie, I sure as hell can forgive you.”

  
“I never meant to hurt you.”

  
“I know, and I can see that you two are really in love, that this wasn’t just some… at least it didn’t happen for no reason,” Elizabeth says, looking down at their hands. “And with Armie being gay, me and him were never going to work, so… at least something good came out of it, I guess.”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“I have to ask though,” she says, and she looks up at him. “When he told me, he said that…”

  
“I was there when he told you.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“I had come over to talk to him, so I heard him telling you. I didn’t mean to, but…”

  
“Did he tell me the truth?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée says. “When we first… do you want me to tell you, or…”

  
“Tell me.”

  
“When it first happened, he told me that it’s just what guys do. I’ve never had friends, not really, so I don’t know what’s normal and what’s not, so I believed him. Or I told myself that I should believe him. I didn’t think he…”

  
“Was in love with you.”

  
“Yeah. When it kept happening, he kept reassuring me that it was nothing more than a bit of fun,” Timothée explains. “I knew he was with you, but… I told myself that it was normal. That it didn’t mean anything. And I know he did too.”

  
“Did you know he was gay, when you first…?”

  
“No! You have no idea how scared he was, when he realised he liked me. He loved you, and he never wanted to hurt you, that’s why he denied it to himself for so long, because he was scared to hurt you. So he didn’t…”

  
“Use me?”

  
“No.”

  
“I’m not angry,” Elizabeth explains. “I’m just… it feels like none of it was real, and it hurts.”

  
“I know.”

  
“But I am happy for you. That’s why I came to this stupid party, because I miss you guys, and I want things to go back to the way they were.”

“Liz…”

  
“Not like that! Just… I want us to be able to hang out again, just the five of us, without… without jealousy or anger. I want us to be friends,” Elizabeth says. “I know it’s going to take time, but I hope we can get past all of this.”

  
“I hope so too.”

* * *

“Which of them do you think is going to come back?” Henry asks, and Armie looks at him, a confused look on his face. “Liz or Timothée? Which of them is going to win that fight?”

  
“They’re only talking.”

  
“Of course they are.”

  
“How is she?” Armie asks, and Henry sighs. “Is she okay?”

  
“She’s hurt.”

  
“I never meant…”

  
“But you did, Armie. You fucked him behind her back,” Henry says. “I don’t care what you tried telling yourself, you knew what you were doing. When you came to my room that night, asking for condoms… you knew what you were doing.”

  
“Yeah…”

  
“But she’s tough. She’ll be alright.”

  
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

  
“I already have,” Elizabeth says, and the two young men turn around, only to find both Elizabeth and Timothée standing there. “Just don’t mess it up with him.”

  
“I won’t,” Armie says, and he glances over to Timothée.

  
“Good, because if you hurt him…,” Henry says, and he puts an arm around Timothée’s waist. “I’ll know where to find you.

  
“What, you all think I’m going to…”

  
“Yes,” Elizabeth laughs. “Good luck with him, Timothée. You’re going to need it.”

* * *

Armie and Timothée are in the townhouse, and they are on opposite ends of the couch, sharing a joint before going to bed. They have already gotten out of their costumes, and Armie was left wearing nothing, but Timothée is in his underwear, and Armie can’t help but smile, as he glances down.

  
“What are you…”

  
“Take them off.”

  
“What?” Timothée laughs, but still he hands the joint over to Armie, before getting up and doing as he is told. Armie stubs out the joint in the ashtray, before moving over to his boyfriend and taking his dick into his mouth. But as soon as Timothée is hard, he moves away from him, a satisfied grin on his face.

  
“Are you just…?” Timothée laughs, glancing down at his dick.

  
“I want to watch you.”

  
“Watch me?” Timothée laughs. “What do you mean?”

  
“I want to watch you,” Armie grins. “while you jerk off.”

  
“Seriously?”

  
“Yeah,” Armie says, but when Timothée sees the blush on his face, he realises he is actually nervous to ask. “Have I asked too much? Is that too…”

  
“You can watch. But only if I get to watch you do it too.” Timothée grins, before sitting back down on the couch. “That’s only fair, isn’t it?”

  
“Deal,” Armie laughs, before leaning over to kiss him.

  
He sits back, trying to make himself comfortable, but when he watches his boyfriend grab hold of his dick, those long, graceful fingers of his already working their magic, he struggles to look away.

  
“We had a deal, didn’t we?” Timothée asks, raising an eyebrow, and Armie looks up at him. “I’ll stop.”

  
“Don’t,” Armie hears himself say, his voice shaking, and it makes him realise just how badly he had been longing to watch Timothée do this. So he grabs his dick, and mindlessly starts jerking off, his eyes focussed on Timothée, wondering how such a thing how beauty can exist. How someone so perfect, can be his.

  
Armie watches, and he can tell the subtle changes in his boyfriend’s body, he has come to recognise them. He knows when he is about to come, and just the thought of getting to watch, it sends him over the edge. The grin on Timothée’s face grows bigger, as he glances down, and Armie realises that he is enjoying this just as much as he is. It makes him love him just that much more. But then Timothée closes his eyes, and he leans his head back against the couch, a grimace on his face which Armie is all too familiar with, and Armie watches him come.

  
Sure, he has watched him come dozens of times before, but getting to watch this, and knowing that this is what he looks like when he is by himself, when they have to be away from each other for weeks again, it makes his heart beat so fast, that surely the neighbours must be able to hear it.

  
“You are so beautiful,” Armie whispers, as he leans in to kiss him.

  
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Timothée laughs, before grabbing a towel from the table, so they can get cleaned up. “We ehm…”

  
“Should do this again?”

  
“Definitely!”


	14. Chapter 14

Timothée has been lingering on the top of the stairs for minutes, but every time he wants to go down, he gets too nervous. But when he hears his mother getting the pots and pans out of the cupboard, ready to start preparing dinner, he knows that if he doesn’t go down now, he will have lost his chance.

  
So he takes a deep breath, goes downstairs, and joins his mother in the kitchen, where he sits down at the table.

  
“Mom, do you have a minute?”

  
“Of course, honey. What is it?” his mother asks, as she sits down with him.

“About the wedding…”

  
“Yes?”

  
“I was thinking… do you think it would be okay if I bring Armie?” Timothée asks, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. But his mother gets the biggest, proudest smile on her face, and it takes some of his fear away.

  
“It’s serious then?”

  
“Yeah, I think we…,” Timothée begins, but then he looks down at his hands, not sure if he should tell his mother everything.

  
“Tim, you know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

  
“I know.” Timothée nods. “I just… this is the first time I’ve been in love, so how do I know if this is…”

  
“What it’s supposed to be like?”

  
“I guess.”

  
“How does he make you feel?”

  
“I don’t know,” Timothée mumbles, but when he looks up, he sees the knowing smile on his mother’s face, and he sighs. “He makes me feel like I’m… he makes me feel okay.”

  
“Okay?”

  
“Like I am okay,” he tries to explain. “Like I don’t have to apologise for… being,” he adds, and he can’t help but smile, when he remembers one of the first conversations he had had with Armie. When Armie had already told him that, but he hadn’t been ready to believe him. Not yet. “He makes me feel like things are going to be okay. He makes me feel like I have something to look forward to,” he admits. “A future, I guess.”

  
“Have you told him any of this?”

  
“Of course not. We’ve only been together for a few weeks. I don’t want to scare him off.”

  
“I think you should tell him,” Timothée’s mother says, a reassuring smile on her face. “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you, Tim. And I think…”

  
“What?”

  
“After all the bad, I think you finally found the good. And it’s…,” she sighs, as she grabs his hand. “You found something real good, Tim.”

  
“You think so?”

  
“Yes, so no matter how scared you get, you have got to open yourself up to him. No more running away. And no more lying,” she laughs, before getting up. “Next time you tell me has ended your relationship, I will give him a call, just to check.”

  
“I’m sorry…”

  
“Go on, go ask him if he’ll be your date to the wedding.”

  
“Thanks, mom.”

* * *

Timothée can feel his hand shaking, as he holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for Armie to pick up. And although it’s only a matter of seconds until he hears Armie’s voice, it feels like hours, and he wonders if this is too much, too soon.

  
“Timmy!”

  
“Hey…”

  
“What?” Armie laughs, when he hears how nervous his boyfriend is. “What have you done?”

  
“Nothing! I just… tell me if this is too soon, or if you… if we…,” Timothée stumbles, but when he hears Armie laugh, he can’t help but smile, feeling a little silly for being so nervous.

  
“You’re not going to propose, are you?”

  
“No!”

  
“Good,” Armie laughs. “Because yeah, I’d say it’s a bit soon for that.”

  
“You think?” Timothée laughs, slowly relaxing, as he lets himself fall back onto his bed. “No, I ehm… I have to go to this wedding with my parents. My cousin, she’s getting married, and I was wondering if you want to go with me. As my date.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“You want me to meet your family?” Armie asks. “As your…”

  
“Armie!” Timothée laughs, shocked at how nervous he now sounds. “Yes, I want them to know you’re my boyfriend.”

  
“I guess I better get myself a new suit then.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Timmy.”

  
“Wait, but…,” Timothée says, but before he can say another word, Armie has already hung up the phone. But then he receives a text, and he quickly opens it, only to find a selfie of Armie in bed. He has that mischievous smile on his face, that glint in his eyes, which Timothée has come too recognise all too well, and when he sees another text coming in, he can’t help but laugh.

  
_Thinking of you. ;-)_

* * *

Timothée is just doing the washing up after breakfast, when two arms wrap tightly around his waist, and he is pulled back against an all-too familiar body. He closes his eyes, as Armie starts kissing his neck, before turning him around, a tired but excited look on his face.

  
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he whispers, before kissing him. Timothée can feel the hunger, the fire, and all he wants to do is take Armie up to his room. But they can hear footsteps coming towards the kitchen, so they quickly step away from each other.

  
“Armie! It’s so good to see you again,” Timothée’s father says, before giving him a big hug. “I’ve heard you’re coming with us to the wedding?”

  
“Yeah, I ehm… I can’t wait.”

  
“Well, you’ll fit right in,” Timothée’s father says, before pouring himself a coffee. “I’ll leave you boys to it.”

  
He leaves the kitchen, but before he has even entered the hallway, Armie is already kissing Timothée like he hasn’t kissed him in years. Timothée can taste the hunger, and even in his touch there is such a longing, such a need, that Timothée has to step away from him, because he knows they can’t do this, not here, not with his father just feet away from them.

  
“Later, okay? My parents are out all night, so… unless you have to go back tonight?”

  
“I don’t have to get back until tomorrow,” Armie says, and he looks over his shoulder, to make sure they are alone, before closing the distance between them again. He grabs Timothée’s dick through his pants, and it makes him gasp for air.

  
“All night, you said?” Armie whispers, a mischievous grin on his face.

  
“Mhm.”

  
“Good to know,” he whispers, before kissing him. “I think we’ll find a way to ehm…”

  
“Armie!” Timothée warns him, glancing down, a panicked look on his face. “Not here.”

  
“Spoilsport.”

* * *

The two young men have been looking around for a suit for Armie for the wedding for a while now, but he hasn’t found anything yet. So they have decided to take a break, and have a coffee, and try again later.

  
“What will you be wearing?”

  
“The suit you bought me for prom,” Timothée says, happy with his choice, but when he sees the confused look on Armie’s face, he wonders if he has made a mistake. “What?”

  
“That’s not… it was fine for prom, and the graduation party. But this is different, man, this is a wedding.”

  
“I know, but it’s either that one, or one of my dad’s suits.”

  
“Let me buy you a new one.”

  
“No! I… it’s fine. I’ve only worn it twice, and it’s still…,” Timothée tries, but Armie grabs his hand, and he gives it a squeeze.

  
“Timmy, let me buy you a suit. I want to, okay? I know how much you love fashion, so…”

  
“I don’t.”

  
“Timmy!”

  
“Fine, I do,” Timothée admits, but he stares down at his coffee, and he sighs. “But I’m not… I appreciate you trying, but I’ll never go back to being the guy you saw in those photos. He’s gone. You know that, right?”

  
“He’s not gone,” Armie says. “You’re still him, you’re just a little… you’ve changed.”

  
“I had to.”

  
“I know,” Armie sighs, and Timothée looks up at him. “But you’re still you. A stronger, more handsome…,” he continues, but then he hears a voice of a young man walking by, and his insides seem to be freezing over.

  
“Homos!”

  
This is what he had been afraid of, ever since he and Timothée had gotten together, ever since they had started holding hands, and kissing in public. Not for himself, but for Timothée, because he knows that this is what used to happen to him on a daily basis. This is what had led to his fears, his depression. This is what had led to him trying to take his own life.

  
So when he turns around, and he sees the young man looking back at him, he can’t help himself.

  
“You got a problem with that?”

  
“Armie…”

  
“You want to say it to my face?” Armie asks, and he gets up out of his chair. The young man had been walking by, but when he realises Armie isn’t going to let his comment pass, he comes over to him. “What is your problem?”

  
“You’re a homo!”

  
“Yeah, I am. And?” Armie asks, and Timothée can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest. The images of Armie being beaten up, of having his head kicked in, of being murdered, are flashing through his mind, and all he wants to do is run. But he can’t move, he can’t even look away, not even when the young man steps up to Armie, their faces now nearly touching. But Armie pushes him away, an anger in him which Timothée has never seen before.

  
“You fuck off, and you leave us alone, yeah?” Armie says, but the young man tries to punch him. For a moment, Timothée thinks his fist is going to connect with Armie’s face, but Armie manages to avoid it, and before Timothée even realises what is happening, Armie has a tight grip on the young man, and the young man is unable to move, his arm held tight behind his back.

  
“I am telling you, man, back off!”

  
“I…,” the young man begins, but Timothée can see the fear in his eyes. He had only wanted to yell out at them, he hadn’t expected any of this. So Armie lets go of him, and he quickly walks off, not even looking back once. And when Armie sits back down, he still looks like he is about to explode with rage.

  
“Where did you learn how to do that?”

  
“Oh, I…,” Armie says, and when he realises what he has just done, he can’t help but laugh, but it’s a nervous laughter, a relieved laughter, because he knows that this could have ended very differently. “I’ve been working out with this guy, and he taught me a couple of moves.”

  
“A guy?” Timothée asks, raising an eyebrow.

  
“Just a guy,” Armie laughs, but then he sighs, “Are you okay?”

  
“Yeah. I actually am.”

  
“Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah. I ehm… he’s just an idiot. He doesn’t matter, does he?” Timothée asks.

  
“Who are you, and what have you done to my boyfriend?”

  
“I’ve actually been seeing someone.”

  
“Oh, really?” Armie laughs. “Weren’t you accusing me of…”

  
“A therapist,” Timothée quickly explains. “When we got together again, I decided I didn’t want to let my anxiety, or depression, mess things up anymore. I had tried to talk to a therapist before, after I tried to commit suicide, but I just didn’t see the point,” he shrugs. “I felt like I had nothing to get better for.”

  
“Timmy…”

  
“No, I need to say this, Armie. It scares me, how much you mean to me, it scares me, that you make me feel like I’ve got something to live for.”

  
“You’ve got everything to live for!”

  
“I know, I guess... But you make me feel like I’m not just living, you make me feel like I’m actually alive. And I have never felt that way before,” Timothée admits. “That terrifies me, because if I mess up again…”

  
“You are not going to lose me, Timmy.”

  
“I am not saying this to make you stay with me.”

  
“For fuck sake, man. You don’t need to say anything to make me stay,” Armie says, and he flashes a reassuring smile. “I love you, okay? You think I’m not still scared? You’re my… fuck, I don’t even know, man. These past few months have been…”

  
“A mess?” Timothée suggests, and Armie can’t help but laugh.

  
“Maybe a little bit, yeah,” Armie laughs. “But being with you, it makes me feel…,” he sighs, as he rests his head against the back of the chair. “I was living a life that wasn’t mine. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy, and I would probably still be happy now if things had gone on the way they were going, but…” He shakes his head, an uncertain look on his face. “I wouldn’t have been able to become who I am today, if it hadn’t been for you. I’m not just talking about being gay, or coming out. It’s more than that. You have made me more… me. Does that make sense?”

  
Timothée nods, but Armie sees the hesitant look on his face, and he can’t help but smile.

  
“You don’t believe me.”

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“Don’t worry, I know you’ll believe me, one day. And I’ll still be there when that happens.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Yeah.”

\--

There are four days to go until the wedding, and Timothée is a little nervous about it. Not so much about seeing his family again, or even about Armie meeting his family. But this feels like a big next step, and it’s exciting, but he’s scared a big step might make him sink back into a depression again. So he has been seeing his therapist more frequently, and he has been trying his best not to worry about it too much. But still he can’t sleep, because he can’t stop thinking about it.  
But then his phone starts buzzing, and he expects to find a text from Armie, telling him goodnight, but instead, it’s a video call.  
Armie pops up on the screen, and just seeing him in bed, his naked chest, his arms which have grown so much bigger since he has been working out, it makes Timothée long for him. It makes him want to reach out through the screen and touch him.  
“What?” Armie laughs, when he sees the frustrated look on his boyfriend’s face. “Were you asleep?”  
“No, I just… I miss you.”  
“I miss you too,” Armie says, and he lies down on his back, adjusting the phone, now showing off even more of his body. And by the glint in his eyes, Timothée can tell that he knows exactly what he is doing.  
“My parents are out tonight.”  
“I know.” The grin on Armie’s face grows, and Timothée wonders where he is going with this.  
“Armie,” he laughs. “What is this?”  
“I just thought we could, you know, have a bit of fun together.”  
“A bit of fun?”  
“Yeah,” Armie laughs. “We’ve got to find a way to make this work, don’t we?”  
“How do you suggest we have a bit of fun then?” Timothée asks, but when Armie starts moving the camera, he realises what is happening. “You mean…”  
“Or is this too much? Does this make us one of those really cheap…”  
“No,” Timothée laughs, when Armie flips the camera, his lower body still hidden by the covers. But then he turns the camera up again, and Timothée can see the blush on his face.  
“I’m a little…”  
“You’re nervous!”  
“I’ve never done this before,” Armie laughs. “This is…”  
“Not even with Liz?”  
“No, not with Liz,” Armie laughs. “You’re really going to bring her up, right now? When I’m about to…”  
“About to what?” Timothée asks, trying to keep a straight face, but Armie flips him off, a big grin on his face. “Don’t worry, this isn’t too…”  
“No?”  
“Definitely not,” Timothée laughs, and he can see the relieved look on his boyfriend’s face, just before the image changes to his lower body again. But the covers have been moved away now, and when he sees Armie’s naked body on the screen, he feels such a jolt going through his body, that he nearly drops his phone.  
He watches, as Armie slowly, almost teasingly starts jerking off, and there is such excitement in knowing that Armie is miles away, thinking of him, touching himself, that he can already feel himself growing hard.  
“Wait, Armie,” he says, and Armie’s face appears on the screen again, so flushed, so hot, that it makes Timothée grow even harder, makes him want to touch himself even more. “I ehm…”  
“Yeah?”  
Timothée wants to tell him, but why tell him, when he can show him?  
“Fuck,” Armie whispers, when he sees how hard Timothée is already. “I wish I was there.”  
“Me too.”  
Timothée slides down his boxers, before kicking them off, and he grabs his dick, suddenly realising just how exciting it is to do this, knowing that Armie is watching him, as he is touching himself. And although they had watched each other in real life, this feels different, this feels somehow more dangerous, more risky.  
Armie can’t take his eyes off the screen, off the image of Timothée touching himself, but it isn’t the image that gets to him, it is the soft moans coming out of Timothée’s mouth, that make his insides feel like they are being flipped over and over again. And when Timothée comes, with one final moan, and Armie sees it happening, on the small screen in his hand, it feels as though his heart is struck by lightning.  
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, “Show me your face.”  
Armie continues jerking off, still trying to take it slow, to tease Timothée, but when he sees the satisfaction, the exhaustion, the pleasure on his boyfriend’s face, there is no way he can make this last any longer.  
“Timmy?” he whispers, feeling such a sense of adrenaline going through him. But also a sense of pure love, when he looks into his boyfriend’s eyes again.  
“Yeah?”  
“I love you. So much.”  
“I love you too. Please don’t hang up yet,” Timothée says, and Armie can’t help but smile. “I don’t want to lose you yet.”  
“I’m not hanging up. I can stay with you all night.”


	15. Chapter 15

Timothée, his parents, and Armie had arrived at the hotel this afternoon, and his parents had gone into town to check out a local museum. But Timothée hadn’t been feeling well, so he and Armie had gone out for a walk in the hotel’s rose garden.

  
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

  
“Stop apologising,” Armie laughs. “If someone gave me a dollar, every time you say the word sorry…”

  
“I know, I’m…”

  
“Sorry?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée laughs, an embarrassed look on his face.

  
“Let’s sit down,” Armie suggests, and he leads his boyfriend over to a bench, but as he wants to sit down, Timothée stops him. “What? I thought…”

  
“This place, doesn’t it remind you of anything?” he asks, and Armie looks around him. “The hotel, where…”

  
“The graduation party,” Armie realises, as they sit down. “When I kissed you.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Shit, that feels like a lifetime ago,” Armie says, as he looks at Timothée, unable to hide to smile on his face. “I was so nervous… I had come so close to kissing you so many times before, but…”

  
“That was my first kiss,” Timothée admits, and Armie nods. “You knew?”

  
“When I asked you if you had kissed guys before, you avoided my question, so I figured you hadn’t,” Armie admits, but then he gets a grin on his face, and Timothée raises an eyebrow.

  
“What? That’s funny?”

  
“No, I was just thinking, we were already jerking each other off, you gave me a blowjob at the music festival…,” Armie remembers, Timothée’s face turning redder with ever word. “Yet you had never…”

  
“Yeah, alright!”

  
“I should have kissed you first.”

  
“I wouldn’t have let you.” Timothée shrugs, but when he notices the hurt look on Armie’s face, he continues. “Because you had a girlfriend, Armie. I didn’t want to be, you know, the other…”

  
“Woman?” Armie suggests, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “But I get what you’re saying. Still, I feel like we deserve a better story to tell than…”

  
“Your dad had a girlfriend, but I gave him head anyway, and here we are,” Timothée laughs, but when he realises what he has said, he quickly looks down at his feet.

  
“Dad, huh?”

  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… it was just… fuck!”

  
“You want to have kids?” Armie asks, but Timothée still can’t face him. “Timmy?”

  
“Don’t.”

  
“Look at me,” Armie says, and he takes his boyfriend’s hand in his. Timothée looks up at him, a nervous and embarrassed look on his face, and Armie sighs. “Do you?”

  
“Yeah, one day. But I didn’t mean…”

  
“Me too,” Armie interrupts him, and he flashes a small smile.

  
“I didn’t mean…”

  
“Right now. I know. Don’t worry,” Armie says, and he squeezes his hand tight, before looking out at the garden. “But I have been thinking… my roommate, he and his girlfriend are getting a place together, so I’m going to have to either find a new roommate, or I’ll have to find a new place.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yeah. But I was thinking, how about you and I get a place together?” Armie suggests, trying to hide his nerves, but Timothée can feel his hand getting clammy, and he can’t help but smile. “If it’s too soon, I…”

  
“As roommates, or…”

  
“Roommates?” Armie laughs. “For fuck sake, man. Of course not as roommates. As us, as taking the next step, as the beginning of… you know…”

  
“Really?” Timothée asks, and Armie rolls his eyes, shaking his head, smiling to himself. “I mean, it’s only been…”

  
“Months, Timmy. It’s been months since we met. Don’t you think we wasted enough time when…”

  
“I pushed you away?”

  
“When I tried to deny I was in love with you,” Armie says, and he elbows him in the arm. “Not… stop blaming yourself for everything. We both messed up, okay? But we are going to get it right this time, remember? So why not…,” Armie says, but before he can finish his sentence, Timothée interrupts him, a nervous, but excited smile on his face.

  
“I’ll have to talk to my parents first.”

  
“Of course.”

  
“Are you sure about this though, it’s…”

  
“Timmy!”

* * *

After spending the afternoon in the rose garden with Armie, Timothée is feeling much better. There is an excitement raging around inside of him, and even now, after having just had dinner at the hotel restaurant with his parents, he struggles to contain himself. They had decided that it would be better to not discuss things until after the wedding, just in case. But just the thought of moving out, of living together with Armie, of taking that step, of things getting so serious, it makes Timothée want to jump up and down, and scream and shout.

  
His parents are discussing the museum they had visited today, and Timothée is trying his best to focus, but when he looks over to Armie, he is met by a knowing smile.

  
So underneath the table, he lays his hand down on Armie’s leg, waiting to see if there is a response. And when there is none, he slowly, teasingly, starts moving his hand up towards Armie’s crotch. He can tell that Armie is struggling to keep a straight face, and when he starts stroking his dick through the fabric of his pants, he notices his breathing getting faster. But his parents are so caught up in their conversation, that they are completely clueless as to what is going on.

  
“You boys really should go see it, it’s… oh, it’s wonderful, Tim!”

  
“Yeah, maybe. But Armie has to go back after the wedding, so…”

  
“That’s a shame. How is college?” Timothée’s mother asks, but Armie just nods, struggling to hide what is happening underneath the table right now. “Do you like it?”

  
“Mhm, it’s great,” Armie manages to bring out, and from the corner of his eye, he sees the satisfied grin forming on his boyfriend’s face.

  
“Well, we should probably head up to our room. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow,” Timothée’s father says, “You boys make sure you get enough sleep.”

  
“We will,” Timothée says, and his parents get up, say their goodbyes, and leave.

  
“Will we?” Armie laughs, as he glances down, a big grin on his face.

  
“Yeah, maybe not.”

* * *

Timothée can’t help but stare at Armie, lying on his back on the bed, still trying to catch his breath. Timothée had always been attracted to him, without a doubt, but as the months have gone by, Armie has only grown more attractive, and it is as though he is growing more into himself every day, and Timothée can’t help but wonder what he will look like in a month, a year. What he will look like in ten years.

  
“You’re staring.”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée whispers, as Armie rolls onto his side, to face him. “I was just thinking, I…,” he begins, but then he simply kisses him.

  
“Timmy?” Armie asks. “Do you think that maybe we can…?”

  
“What?”

  
“What if I… if you…”

  
“Armie,” Timothée laughs, and he brings his hand up to the side of his boyfriend’s neck. “Ask me. If it’s too weird, or too… if I’m not ready, I’ll tell you, okay?”

  
“What if we switch it up?”

  
“Switch it up?”

  
“You and me, what we do...,” Armie tries, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He had been thinking about this for weeks, but to actually be here, suggesting it, it makes him wonder if maybe this is too soon. Makes him wonder if he is actually ready for this.

  
“I don’t know what you’re…,” Timothée begins, but then he begins to laugh, and the look on Armie’s face becomes even more uncomfortable. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you?”

  
“Do you have to put it like that?” Armie asks, and he buries his face in his hands. Timothée rolls his eyes, and he shakes his head.

  
“If I had to wait for you to ask, we’d still be here next week.”

  
“Yeah, but…”

  
“Armie, seriously?” Timothée laughs, and his boyfriend takes a peek at him through his fingers. “Stop being a… You’re the one who is usually all…”

  
“I’m nervous!”

  
“You think I wasn’t nervous when we first did it? Or I’m not nervous now? This’ll be another first for me too, remember. I’ve never…”

  
“Then how can you be so relaxed about it?” Armie asks, and Timothée takes his hand and brings it up to his chest. And it isn’t until Armie feels how fast his heart is beating, that he realises that he is just as nervous. “I thought…”

  
“Ever heard of nervous laughter?” Timothée laughs, before leaning down to kiss him. “I mean, yeah, I can say the words, but… this isn’t going to mess things up, is it, if you hate it?”

  
“Then we’ll go back to what we’re used to, or we’ll…”

  
“Keep trying different things?” Timothée laughs, and Armie wraps his arms around him, and pulls him close. “Let’s just… can we please just stay like this for a little while?”

  
“We’ll stay like this all night if you want. I love you, okay?”

  
“I love you too.”

* * *

“How are you feeling?” Armie asks, when Timothée steps out of the bathroom the next morning. He has only just woken up, but he is feeling sore and exhausted, and he wonders how he’ll get through today without making a bad impression.

  
“I’m okay,” Timothée says, a nervous look on his face. “Are you?”

  
“Come here,” Armie whispers, and his boyfriend does as he is told, and he sits down in his lap, still looking more than just a little nervous. “Timmy, I… last night? I don’t regret anything we did, okay?”

  
“Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Armie smiles, “I promise. We haven’t messed anything up. If anything, I…”

  
“What?”

  
“It doesn’t matter,” Armie whispers, before placing a hand on his boyfriend’s naked thigh, and kissing him. “I should probably…”

  
“We’ve still got some time before breakfast,” Timothée quickly says, and Armie can’t help but laugh.

  
“You’ve still got energy for another round, after last night?”

  
“Haven’t you?”

  
“Timothée fucking Chalamet, what has happened to you?” Armie laughs.

  
“I’m just making up for lost time,” Timothée laughs, as he wraps his legs around his boyfriend’s waist.

  
“Fair enough.”

* * *

“Ah, who is this handsome young man then?”

  
“Hi grandma,” Timothée laughs, before giving her a big hug. “This is Armie, he’s my boyfriend.”

  
“Your boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah,” Timothée says, and Armie sticks his hand out to greet the elderly woman, but she gives him a big hug instead.

  
“Welcome to the family, love,” Timothée’s grandmother says, a warm smile on her face. “Tim has never introduced us to any of his dates before, so…”

  
“There haven’t been any dates, grandma.”

  
“Of course there have been! A handsome boy like you!” the elderly woman says, a proud look on her face, as she places a hand on her grandson’s arm. “It’s so good to see you with a smile on your face, love. After the years you have had… Come here,” she says, and she pulls her grandson into a tight hug.

  
“I’m so sorry.”

  
“Don’t you dare say sorry. The only ones who have anything to apologise for are those bastards who hurt you! But you’ll show ‘em, won’t you?” Timothée’s grandmother says, as she lets go of him. “Where you are now. That they haven’t gotten to you.”

  
“I will, grandma.”

  
“I’m proud of you, Tim. And look at this one, if only I had been thirty years younger, eh?”

  
“I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands to myself.” Armie smiles, and the elderly woman takes his hand, a blush on her face. “How about a dance, later?”

  
“I’ll keep you to that.”

  
“I can’t wait,” Armie says, and the woman gives a little wave, before moving onto greeting another family member. “She’s great.”

  
“She’s the best.”

  
“Are you okay?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée says, and he grabs Armie’s hand, holding onto it tightly.

  
“You’re nervous.”

  
“It’s the first time I’m seeing all of them since I tried to… they all know what I did, and I feel like everyone is staring at me, but they’re too scared to come talk to me.”

  
“Your grandma wasn’t.”

  
“Grandma is different. She came to see me after it happened, but most of them didn’t even sent a text, or called, or… I know it isn’t because they didn’t care, but they were feeling uncomfortable, and they didn’t know what to say, so they chose to say nothing. I get it, but it still feels…”

  
“Fuck ‘em,” Armie interrupts him, and Timothée can’t help but smile.

  
“That’s my family.”

  
“I know. Fuck ‘em is probably not the right thing to say, is it?”

  
“No, if they had been strangers, I’d have said you were right, but I still need to see these people…”

  
“Once a year?”

  
“Armie!” Timothée laughs. “It’s not their fault. I put them in that situation, so I can’t blame them for…”

  
“Then go up to them, talk to them, show them that nothing has changed. You’re still you.”

  
“Will you come with me?”

  
“Of course. I’m not staying here on my own. I think I caught one of your cousins checking me out earlier, so who knows what she’ll do if she catches me on my own,” Armie says, trying to keep a straight face.

  
“Really? Which cousin?” Timothée asks, a nervous look on his face. “Do you want me to…”

  
“Relax, man,” Armie laughs. “I’m just kidding. Come on, let’s go talk to your family.”

* * *

“This place is just a dream.” Timothée’s grandmother says, as Armie helps her put on her coat. “The perfect place to get married. Don’t you think?”

  
“For sure,” Armie agrees, as the elderly woman turns to face him. “It’s beautiful.”

  
“Who knows, we might be back here before you know it!”

  
“Oh?” Armie asks, but when she glances over to Timothée, who is coming over to them, he realises what she is saying.

  
“I think you two might be next.”

  
“Maybe,” Armie laughs, but then he gets a shy look on his face. “Hopefully, one day.”

  
“You’re not trying to steal him from me, are you, grandma?” Timothée laughs, as he puts an arm around his grandmother’s shoulder.

  
“I think he’s only got eyes for you, love.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
Timothée can’t help but notice the blush on Armie’s face, and he can’t deny that just before they had arrived here this morning, he had gotten nervous that bringing Armie to the wedding would be too big of a step. Only months ago, Armie had been with Elizabeth, and he had been trying to deny to himself that he was in love with Timothée, so to be here, to have not just strangers or friends knowing about their relationship, but becoming a part of the family, it makes everything just that much more real. But Armie hadn’t seemed uncomfortable once today, if anything, he had seemed happy, relaxed. And seeing him here, getting along with the family, it puts Timothée’s mind at ease, and it takes away any last doubt he had been feeling about whether Armie was ready for all of this or not.

  
So he lets go of his grandmother, and he steps up to his boyfriend, who wraps an arm around his waist, and pulls him close.

  
“You’ve got a good one here, Tim. Make sure you don’t let him go.”

  
“I won’t, grandma,” Timothée says, before looking up, into Armie’s eyes. “I won’t.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! My health was being a shitshow, and I missed almost a full week of updates. But I'm back, and I'm writing and updating again. So yeah, the second to last chapter! Can't believe it's almost over already!

“What did you want to tell us?” Timothée’s father asks, when his son is still staring down at the floor after the longest time. He had asked his parents to come into the living room, because he wanted to talk to them. But now that they are here, he can’t get himself to say the words. The anxiety is growing by the second, and there is such a panic inside of him, that he is actually starting to feel dizzy.

  
“Tim, what’s wrong?”

  
“I…”

  
“You’re not sick, are you?” his mother asks, a worried look on her face. He just shakes his head, but he still can’t speak.  
“Has something happened? Has someone hurt you?” his father asks, and he reaches out to touch his hand. But Timothée flinches, because he is feeling so on edge. So his father gets up, and he starts pacing up and down the room. “Did Armie hurt you? If he did, I will…”

  
“No,” Timothée quickly says. “Of course not.”

  
“Then what, Tim? Why are you so…?”

  
“Armie has asked me to move in with him,” Timothée blurts out. “No, he didn’t. Not really,” he quickly adds.

  
“He… did he, or didn’t he?” his mother asks.

  
“He wants us to get a place together.”

  
“Then why are you upset?”

  
“I don’t know,” Timothée admits. “Because I’m scared, I guess. And I don’t want to leave you guys. I know you need me to help…”

  
“Tim, we could do with your help when we first moved here,” his father says, as he sits back down. “But your mom is working again, this place is… things are not as bad as they were months ago. So we will manage, okay?”

  
“But what about…”

  
“Go and live your life,” his mother says, and she reaches out to take his hand. This time he doesn’t flinch, he just feels comforted by his mother’s touch, reassured.

  
“Are you sure? Because if I tell him that it’s too soon, that you guys need me here, he will understand, he…”

  
“Tim, we will be fine. You deserve this, so take this chance, honey. Be happy.”

* * *

Armie had gone home to surprise his parents with a visit for the weekend, and he had decided to bring Timothée. But when they had arrived at the house, they had found it empty, and after calling his parents, it had turned out that they were away on a trip. But instead of driving all this way for nothing, the guys had decided to stay anyway.

  
They had spent last night watching movies and eating pizza, and they had had a great time, but when Timothée had woken up this morning, he hadn’t been feeling well. Armie had given him some time on his own, and he has just had breakfast and gotten ready for today.

  
But when he goes back into the townhouse, he finds Timothée still in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin.

  
“What can I do to help?” he whispers, as he sets down Timothée’s breakfast, and he kneels down in front of him.

  
“Nothing.”

  
“Do you want to talk?” he asks, but Timothée shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes. Armie has come to recognises this look far too well, and he knows that things are bad. Real bad. So he gets up, and he starts taking off his clothes.

  
“I’m not in the mood.”

  
“Neither am I,” Armie says, as he climbs into bed, before getting underneath the covers. He wraps his arms around Timothée, and holds him as tight as possible, wanting to do nothing but comfort him and protect him.

  
“I’m sorry,” Timothée whispers, and Armie can tell that he is trying hard to fight his tears, but that he is losing the fight.

  
“I am just going to lie here with you, okay? And we’ll stay here for as long as you need.”

* * *

It’s been hours, and Timothée still hasn’t left the bed. But Armie had gone and gotten him a mug of steaming hot cocoa, and now that he is drinking it, it seems to comfort him a bit.

  
“Want to talk?”

  
“You’ll hate me.”

  
“No, I wont,” Armie sighs. “and you know it. Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  
“What if it’s too soon, getting a place together?”

  
“Do you think it’s too soon?” Armie asks, but his boyfriend just shrugs, staring down into his mug. “Why?”

  
“We’ve only been together for a couple of months, and…,” he begins, but then he stops, an embarrassed look on his face.

  
“What?”

  
“It’s not even been a year since I tried to commit suicide, Armie.”

  
“Which is exactly why we should go for it,” Armie says, “We’ve got to live in the here and now. Not waste a moment. Before you know it, you’re…”

  
“Dead?” Timothée suggests, but the word cuts Armie like a knife, and he wishes he hadn’t said what he has just said.

  
“I mean that we should just go for it,” Armie sighs. “Why waste time, living so far apart, when we can live together, and start building a life?”

  
“It’ll still be like this, when we’re living together. I’ll still be depressed. You can’t fix me.”

  
“I know.”

  
“Every day could be like this. You never know what you’re going to get, and if we’re living together, there is no running away from this, Armie,” Timothée says, and Armie can hear the fear in his voice. The pain. The shame.

  
“I don’t want to run away, Timmy.”

  
“You say that now, but you’ll get sick of it, and you’ll grow to hate me for it. When it’s like this for months, or years, you’ll…”  
“I’ll still be there, by your side.”

  
“You don’t deserve to have to put up with this. With me,” Timothée says, and Armie can feel himself getting frustrated, but he knows that this isn’t Timothée speaking. It’s the depression.

  
“I want to be with you, Timmy. And I told you, I’ll be there, even for the bad and the ugly. I didn’t mean just once a month, or… I meant every single time, every day. For as long as you’ll have me, okay? I love you. All of you.”

  
“But…”

  
“No buts,” Armie says, “So if you don’t want us to live together because you think it’s too soon, or because you can’t put up with my messiness, that’s fine. I’ll take it. But because of this? I can’t accept that. Sorry, man.”

* * *

The group of friends have just arrived at Henry’s father’s summer house. They had all wanted to go back to Edinburgh, but with their busy schedules, going out of the country isn’t an option. So instead, they had decided to get away to the summer house for a few days.

  
“God, it’s freezing!” Saoirse complains, as she sticks her hands in her pockets. “How the hell are we supposed to survive here?”

“There’s heating, a fireplace, and a sauna. What do you think this is?” Henry rolls his eyes, as he grabs her bag, and his own out of the trunk. “You’ll survive.”

  
“Unless you two kill each other,” Liz shrugs. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  
“This idiot thought it would be a good idea to come here when it’s fucking freezing!”

  
“Next time you take care of everything then, yes?” Henry says, and he drops her bag, and walks off.

“Oi, Cavill!”

  
“Have you been here before?” Timothée asks, ignoring the arguing.

  
“Once, and it’s great. Saoirse is…,” Armie begins, but when they hear Henry crying out in pain, they both turn around, only to find him lying down in the snow. “Did she just…”

  
“We do have our own room, don’t we?”

  
“Hell yeah, I’m not sharing with those two!”

  
“Good.”

  
They grab their bags, before following Henry, who is now covered in snow, into the house, which is stunning, and when they look around them, they are all in awe.

  
“Wow, this is…”

  
“So all your bitching was for nothing?” Henry says, but Saoirse just glares at him. “Next time you…”

  
“How about we have a drink,” Elizabeth suggests. “Before we all kill each other.”

  
“Good idea.”

* * *

After a long day of drinking, Saoirse had suggested they’d play truth or dare. At first the guys had all objected, but Elizabeth had agreed with Saoirse, and the guys had been too intoxicated to argue with them about it.

  
It had only led to more drinking, and after silly dares like running around naked in the snow, or taking a shot of every drink mixed together, things are starting to get a little bit more risky. Elizabeth has already had to kiss Saoirse, and Saoirse has had to give Timothée a lap dance. But when it’s Saoirse’s turn to dare Henry, they are all a little nervous about what she’ll make him do.

  
“I want you to kiss…”

  
“Yes?” Henry laughs, trying to seem calm, with his big arrogant grin on his face, but they can all see that he is getting a little nervous. Because this can only lead to one thing, can it? Kissing Elizabeth, his best friend’s ex-girlfriend.

  
“You kiss Armie,” Saoirse laughs, and the look of shock on Elizabeth’s face makes her nearly fall over with laughter. “You thought I was going to make him kiss you?”

  
“I guess…”

  
“Go on, Cavill!”

  
“Oh, we’ve already made out, so…,” Henry shrugs, relieved to not have to kiss Elizabeth.

  
“You have?” Elizabeth asks. “When?”

  
“He was insulted I wasn’t into him, so he tried to convince me he was…,” Armie begins, but Saoirse stops him, wildly waving her arms.

  
“Whoa! No, I want to change my dare. That’s not fair then, is it? If you’ve already kissed him,” she says, but Henry just shrugs. “Timothée then.”

  
“Me?” Timothée asks, “Thanks.”

  
“You’re welcome,” Saoirse laughs, not even noticing the sarcasm. “Go on, Cavill, before I make you put your arse back out in the snow.”

  
“I don’t care,” Henry laughs, and before either of them can say a word, he has leaned over to Armie and Timothée, and he has pulled them both in for a kiss. But the afternoon of drinking has made them all let go of their inhibitions, and the kiss lasts for much longer than needed, making Elizabeth bury her face in her hands out of embarrassment.

  
“Is it me, or is that hot?” Saoirse asks, staring at her friends in amazement. “No, that’s definitely hot! Liz!”

  
Henry finally breaks away from them, and sits back down, the arrogant grin back on his face, as though nothing has happened at all.

  
“Is that a blush?” Armie laughs, looking at Timothée, who is still trying to take in what has just happened. He had never kissed anyone before Armie, but to kiss Henry now, to kiss them both, it makes him feel all kinds of things. “Timmy!”

  
“Shut up!”

  
“See, he’s into me,” Henry shrugs, but Timothée just shakes his head. “Seriously?”

  
“Sorry,” Timothée laughs. “I prefer this one,” he adds, before putting his hand on Armie’s leg. But when he notices Elizabeth watching them, he quickly takes his hand back, feeling uncomfortable.

  
“So, Armie,” Henry says. “Truth or dare?”

  
“Truth.”

  
“Well, we already know the answer, because you’re gay now, but who’s better in bed, Timothée or Liz?” Henry laughs, but the atmosphere turns frosty, and Armie quickly looks at Elizabeth, an apologetic look on his face.

  
“You’re an idiot, Cavill,” Saoirse spits out, and she gets up. She grabs her best friend’s hand, and drags her out of the room, away from the game, away from Henry, who just shrugs.

  
“It was just a joke. It’s a game!”

  
“You went too far, Henry,” Armie agrees, and he and Timothée get up and leave the room as well. They go up to their bedroom, and they sit down on the bed, both uncomfortable and not sure what to say.

  
“I’m so sorry.”

  
“For what?” Armie asks. “He’s an idiot, Timmy. He took it too far. He knows it’s a sore subject, because of what I did to Liz, so he shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  
“He’s drunk.”

  
“Yeah, but he should still know better,” Armie says, and although only minutes before, he and Timothée had been feeling intoxicated and giddy, Henry’s question has sobered them up right away. It has made them both fully aware of the fact that they have hurt someone, and when they look at each other, they can see the guilt on each other’s face.

  
“Should we go talk to her?”

  
“I’ll talk to her,” Armie says, before getting up.

  
“Tell her I’m sorry, okay?”

  
“I will,” Armie says, before kissing the top of his head, and leaving the room. He goes over to Elizabeth and Saoirse’s room, and he knocks on the door. Saoirse opens it, an angry look on her face. But when she sees Armie, she relaxes, and she lets him in.

  
“Are you okay?” Armie asks Elizabeth, who is sitting on the bed, but she just shrugs. “Timmy feels horrible, he…”

  
“He shouldn’t. Henry’s question just… I thought we could pretend that nothing ever happened, and we could move on from it, but…,” she sighs, as Armie sits down with her, and he puts an arm around her shoulder. “It hurt, him asking that.”

  
“He’s an idiot, Liz.”

  
“I know.”

  
“And just for the record,” Armie says, a shy smile on his face. “I thought our sex was great.”

  
“I’m still here!” Saoirse says, and both Armie and Elizabeth can’t help but laugh.

  
“Yeah, well, I know she’ll tell you whatever I say to her anyway,” Armie laughs, “So you might as well be here.”

  
“True.”

  
“But I mean it, Liz. You know you didn’t… you didn’t make me gay. It’s not about the sex, or not liking you,” Armie says, but Elizabeth just looks away, an embarrassed look on her face. “Because I loved every minute with you. All of it.”

  
“It just hurts, when he puts it like that.”

  
“He’s an idiot, Liz,” Saoirse says. “Listen to Armie.”

  
“It’s just who I am,” Armie explains. “I promise you that it has nothing to do with you, or with what you did, what we did. I’m just gay, Liz, and I wish I had realised it when I was a kid, so I wouldn’t have put you through all of this, but…”

  
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

  
“I didn’t. I love you, okay?” Armie says, and when he sees his ex-girlfriend’s eyes light up, he feels a ping of guilt going through his body. “I don’t mean…”

  
“I know,” Elizabeth laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore,” she adds, but both Armie and Saoirse can tell that she is lying, that she is trying to stay strong, for everyone’s sake. But Armie knows that the best thing he can do is pretend to believe her, and give her that.

  
“Try and get some sleep tonight, okay?” he says, before giving her a big hug. He gets up, and Saoirse walks him to the door, a worried look on her face.

  
“If he keeps making comments like that…”

  
“I’ll talk to him.”

  
“Thanks, Armie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr : https://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Sorry, some personal stuff coming up. If you're not interested, you can skip it and go ahead to read the story! 
> 
> I know I said it when I first started posting this story (how was that four months ago already?), but I wrote this story when I was in a pretty bad place. Hence the darker themes. I use my writing as a kind of therapy, and this story was my way to work through some issues. Somewhere during the posting of this story, I somehow found myself back in a bad place, and even just reading a chapter every week myself, it was like therapy again, and yeah I know it's just a piece of fanfiction blah blah blah, but this story means a lot to me. So I am beyond grateful that I got to share it with you guys, and I'm sad that it's coming to an end. But I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has shared this emotional (it is to me at least) ride with me, and I wish I could give you all a big (socially-distanced?) hug. Thank you, and perhaps until a next time!  
> Xx

“I want to apologise for my behaviour last night,” Henry says, during breakfast the next morning. “Armie told me what I did, and I…”

  
“You’re a bastard,” Saoirse spits out. “Hurting Liz like that!”

  
“Yes. I don’t even know why I did it. I think I must have thought it was funny,” Henry tries to explain, an embarrassed look on his face. “It’s no excuse, and I am so sorry, Liz.”

  
“Just don’t do it again.”

  
“I won’t. If I say something like that again, Armie will…”

  
“I have my ways to get him to shut up.”

  
“Yes, we all saw that last night,” Saoirse laughs, and Timothée’s face turns a dark shade of red.

  
“That was a good kiss,” Henry laughs, and Saoirse raises an eyebrow.

  
“Don’t tell me, you’re gay now too.”

“Definitely not. But I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoyed that.”

  
“Yes?” Saoirse laughs. “Isn’t that how it started with you?” she asks, looking at Armie, who is trying hard not to laugh.

  
“Oh, I’m definitely not gay. The kissing I can do, but the…,” Henry says, glancing down at his crotch. “I can’t do that. That’s just too… no.”

  
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on, man,” Armie laughs, Timothée’s face now turning even redder.

  
“I think I’ll stick to what I know. But thanks.”

  
“And how’s that working out for you?” Saoirse asks. “When was the last time a girl actually stuck around for longer than one night?”

  
“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?” Henry asks, raising an eyebrow, but when a bread roll nearly hits him in the face, he has to duck away. “Sore subject?”

  
“Fuck you, Cavill!”

* * *

“May I join you?” Elizabeth asks, and Timothée looks up from his book. He gives a nod, and Elizabeth sits down with him by the fireplace. “Armie told me you two are looking into getting a place together.”

  
“Mhm.”

  
“That’s exciting.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“You can barely contain yourself, I can tell,” Elizabeth laughs. “You’re not excited?”

  
“I am.”

  
“But you don’t want me to see?” Elizabeth asks, a knowing smile on her face. “Don’t worry, I can handle it. I promise I won’t be throwing any bricks through your windows, or…”

  
“I know that,” Timothée says, a shy smile on his face. “It’s just that…”

  
“You get to live the life that I was meant to have?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée admits, and Elizabeth sighs.

  
“That’s really what you think?”

  
“It’s how I feel. I feel guilty.”

  
“Don’t. I’m happy, okay? I’ve been trying to go on dates, so…”

  
“Really?” Timothée asks, and Elizabeth nods.

  
“I’m alright. I promise.”

* * *

Timothée and Armie had decided to stay at the house, while the others had gone out to check out the lake, and they are now in the sauna. Timothée has just closed his eyes, and he is finally starting to relax, after he had been a little anxious about having to go into the sauna, never having been in one before.

  
But when he feels Armie’s hand on his leg, his eyes shoot open, and he looks down at it. It is already moving towards his dick, and if they had been somewhere else, at another time, this wouldn’t have bothered him. But they are in a sauna, Henry’s parents’ sauna, and their friends can come back any minute. So this isn’t the place, nor the time for this.

  
Armie can tell that Timothée isn’t into it, so instead, he brings his hand up to his stomach, and he carefully touches his skin, his fingertips only barely touching him. But the gentle touch gives Timothée goose bumps all over, even with the intense heat they are in, and Armie can’t help but smile.

  
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers into Timothée’s ear, but the feeling of Armie’s breath on his skin gives Timothée even more chills, and he can feel his heart starting to beat faster.

  
The sight of Armie, his skin glistening with sweat, that glint in his eye, it is just too much, and Timothée has to look away, to try and think of something else. Anything else. But he catches himself peeking a glimpse at Armie’s chest, and he notices a single drop of sweat. He can’t take his eyes off it, and he follows it all the way down, his heart beating faster with every second.

  
He finds himself kissing Armie with a hunger, a passion, a fire, and the voice inside his head that is telling him that they should not be doing this right now, is quickly being pushed to the side, when Armie pushes him down onto his back.  
Armie starts kissing him all over, his kisses messy, sloppy, and Timothée can tell that he is rushing. It makes him feel giddy, just knowing how much Armie wants this.

  
But when Armie gets up, and he goes over to the door, he wonders if he has changed his mind.

  
“Is something wrong?”

  
“I was just making sure we’re still alone,” Armie explains, before turning back around. He sits down next to Timothée, and he pats his legs, motioning for Timothée to come sit on his lap. Timothée is a little hesitant, but then he does as he is told, a nervous look on his face, as Armie puts his hands onto the sides of his neck.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and Timothée nods. “Are you sure?”  
“Yeah.

  
“But if you want to stop, just tell me,” Armie whispers, before kissing him, trying to make the kiss last as long as possible. But when he finally breaks it, Timothée looks down, and he swallows hard.

  
Armie carefully grabs hold of his dick, and he begins stroking him, slowly, gently. For a moment, they are both taken back to the first time Armie had touched him, all those months ago.

  
They share a nervous, knowing smile, before sharing a long kiss, Armie still touching Timothée as though it´s the very first time.

  
Armie´s touches are almost becoming too much, and Timothée leans back his head, struggling to keep quiet, getting more flushed by the second.

  
Armie can´t stop staring at him, just the sight of that angelic beauty, the sweat dripping down his face, it makes his insides do things they have never done before. So he kisses him again, his hand still pumping away on Timothée´s dick. And when Timothée moans out into his mouth, he leans back, wanting nothing more than to just see him right now.

  
Timothée flashes a small, shy smile, before wrapping his arms around him, and pulling him down onto the bench. They are sticky and sweaty, and Armie still remembers how Timothée had once been embarrassed to be naked in front of him, how he had once been embarrassed because he had dirty hair. It makes him smile to himself, to think where they are now.

  
“You are beautiful,” he whispers, as he brushes the curls out of Timothée’s face, before kissing him.

  
“Shut up.”

  
“You are though.”

  
“They’d kill us if they knew we…,” Timothée whispers, but before he can finish his sentence, the door swings open.

  
“Are you guys in here?” Saoirse asks, and Timothée and Armie quickly let go of each other, and they look up, only to find her and Henry standing in the doorway, Saoirse a horrified look on her face, Henry trying not to laugh. “Seriously? We have to use this sauna as well!”

  
“You better clean up,” Henry laughs. “And ehm… you’ve got something on…,” he laughs, pointing at Armie’s stomach. Armie is too embarrassed to look down, and all he can wish for is for them to leave right now.

  
“What the hell is wrong with yous?” Saoirse asks, rolling her eyes. “For fuck sake!”

  
She turns and leaves, and Henry quickly follows, still laughing.

  
“I guess they’re back,” Armie says, but he can’t face Timothée, too embarrassed, too scared that this has upset him. But when he hears his laughter, he looks at him, and he finds his face having gone bright red, but he doesn’t seem upset at all.

  
“Come on, that was funny.”

  
“That was embarrassing.”

  
“But funny,” Timothée laughs. “And Henry’s right. We should probably clean this place up.”

  
“And have a shower.”

  
“A shower, huh?”

  
“Timmy!”

* * *

Timothée and Elizabeth are preparing dinner, when Armie quietly joins them, a big grin on his face.

  
“What are you smiling about?” Elizabeth laughs. “What did you do?”

  
“Look,” Armie laughs, and he leads them to the doorway, where they are just able to see Henry and Saoirse, who are lying in each other’s arms on the rug, in front of the fireplace.

  
“You don’t think…?” Timothée whispers.

“She’s not interested in Henry.”

  
“Are you sure?” Armie asks. “It looks like they…”

  
“She’s not,” Elizabeth reassures him. “There’s this guy she met, a couple of weeks ago, and he asked her out, just before we left. You should’ve seen her face.”

  
“That’s a shame,” Armie says. “They look cute together.”

  
“Until they open their mouths,” Elizabeth says, “I swear, it will get physical between those two one day.”

  
“In what way?” Timothée laughs.

  
“I’m not sure yet,” Elizabeth laughs, before taking another look at their friends. “Give them enough to drink, and it could go either way.”

  
“I told you, it’s nothing but sexual tension.”

  
“Don’t let Saoirse hear!”

* * *

Timothée is just cleaning a table at the diner, when he feels two arms wrapping tightly around his waist. He gets the biggest smile on his face, and when he turns around, Armie gives him a kiss.

  
“I’ve missed you so much.”

  
“It’s only been a couple of days,” Timothée laughs. After they had gotten back from their trip, only days ago, Armie had gone back to college, and they had spoken to each other every day. He wasn’t supposed to be back until Christmas, but this morning he had called to say that he was on his way over, because he had news that he didn’t want to tell over the phone. It had made Timothée feel anxious all day, but now that Armie is here, he can see that it isn’t bad news, because he wouldn’t look this happy if it was.

“Do you have time to sit down, or…?”

  
“Ehm…” Timothée looks around, and only one table is taken. “Let me check with Luca, okay?”

  
Armie gives a nod, before sitting down at a table, tapping his fingers on the table, too excited to keep the news in any longer.  
It takes a minute for Timothée to come back, but when he finally joins him, he has drinks with him, a shy smile on his face.

  
“Luca wouldn’t let me leave until I took these,” he explains. “He can take over for me for a while, so… what did you want to tell me?”

  
“I found an apartment.”

  
“What?” Timothée asks, but the look on his face is one of shock, not of excitement or happiness, and Armie’s stomach drops. “But…”

  
“Oh…”

  
“Already?”

  
“I have to move out after Christmas, so… I thought you wanted this,” Armie says, unable to hide the hurt look on his face. “I can find somewhere else to live, if you’ve changed your mind, or…”

  
“No.”

  
“Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah,” Timothée says, but then he looks over to Luca, who is walking around the diner. “But I didn’t realise it’d be so soon. I can’t just pack up and leave, Armie. I have work, I have…”

  
“I get it.”

  
“No, don’t be like this. I’m not saying I don’t want to do this, just… I can’t leave this place, not now, not at two weeks notice, okay? Luca needs me here,” Timothée explains. “I need to give him time to find someone to replace me, to…”

  
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Luca says, as he pops up behind Timothée. “But you do realise that this is just a diner, don’t you?”

  
“Yeah, but…”

  
“I love you, Timmy, but I can find someone to replace you by tomorrow,” Luca says, and Armie quickly covers his mouth with his hand, to hide that he is trying his very best not to laugh. “So you go.”

  
“But what about…”

  
“You’re fired,” Luca says, and Timothée’s mouth opens wide in horror. “If that’s what it takes to make you go, that’s what I’ll do. You’re fired.”

  
“You can’t just…”

  
“I just did,” Luca shrugs. “Now you’ve got no more excuses to not move in with your boyfriend,” he adds, before turning to face Armie. “You’re welcome.”

  
“Thanks,” Armie laughs.

  
“Just make sure he comes back to visit, yeah? Because we love him, and we are going to miss him.”

  
“Thank you, Luca,” Timothée says, and Luca gives his hand a pat, before walking off again. “I can’t believe he just…”

  
“Saw through your bullshit excuses?” Armie suggests, a shy smile on Timothée’s face. “Do you want to go check out the apartment then?”

  
“When?”

  
“How about now?”

  
“I’m working.”

  
“Go!” Luca says, apparently still ‘overhearing’ them, and they can’t help but laugh. “You don’t work here anymore, Timmy.”

* * *

Timothée and Armie are in the townhouse, and today they had celebrated Christmas with Armie’s family. Next week they are moving into their apartment, and although everything feels like it’s moving at the speed of lightning, Timothée doesn’t feel anxious about it. He is excited, and he can’t wait to take that step, to start building their life together.

  
Armie had fallen asleep minutes ago, but Timothée doesn’t want today to end yet, so he quietly gets out of bed, and he goes over to the window. A warmth goes through his body, as he watches the moonlight shine down onto the pool, the place where it had all started.

  
But then he hears Armie getting out of bed, and he sighs.

  
“Tell me,” Armie whispers, as he wraps his arms around his waist, and he rests his chin on his shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

  
“I was thinking of the first time I came here. It was the first time I…”

  
“Checked me out?” Armie whispers, a mischievous smile on his face. “When I was getting changed?”

  
“Fuck you,” Timothée laughs. “That’s not what I was going to say. It was the first time that I had done something like that, hanging out with people, friends. It made feel… I don’t even know,” he admits, and he turns to face his boyfriend, a pained look on his face. “I can’t stop thinking, what if no one had found me that day, when I tried to kill myself? What if I had died?”

  
“Timmy…”

  
“No, I…” Timothée sighs, tears forming in his eyes. “I wish I could back and tell myself, show myself, that it was the worst thing I could do. Because I have hurt so many people when I did that. The look on my parents’ faces, Armie… I have this stain on me for the rest of my life, and for what?”

  
“That’s not what I see,” Armie says. “I don’t see a stain, or a… I see someone who survived. Who came out stronger.”

  
“I would give anything to turn back time and to stop myself from doing it.”

  
“Then you’d still be in that place,” Armie sighs. “With the same people. You wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be who you are now.”

  
“I wouldn’t have met you, you mean?”

  
“That’s not even what I was thinking of,” Armie says. “I’m just saying, you can’t change the past, and I know it’s not the same, far from it, but I have to live with the guilt of hurting Liz for the rest of my life. You think I wouldn’t give anything to take it back? But I can’t, and we wouldn’t be here today if it hadn’t happened.”

  
“I know,” Timothée sighs, before resting his head on Armie’s shoulder. “If they hadn’t found me, Armie…”

  
“But they did.”

  
“I would have missed out on all of this. I would have thrown away my future, I…”

  
“Timmy, look at me,” Armie whispers, and Timothée looks up at him. “You are still here, okay? You survived.”

  
Timothée turns to look out at the pool again, and as Armie kisses the top of his head, he feels a heaviness which has been on his shoulders for years, lifting off. Just months ago, he was ready to die, yet here he is, feeling more alive than ever before. Ready for every next step, every next challenge that life will throw his way. And as he feels the warmth of Armie’s skin against his, he knows that his boyfriend will be there with him. Every step of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr : https://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/


End file.
